Amid vague fear that weaves its grip,
She thinks of what has brought her there.
She’ll gather what she can this trip,
But leave enough for all to share.
The lines are long, the hour quite late;
There truly is so much to do.
Yet, she smiles, doesn’t hesitate
When sunshine comes into her view:
Here alongside the crowded path,
Bouquets of tulips call her name.
And yes, to calm fear’s numbing wrath,
She’ll bring three home and hope reclaim.
“That’s not milk or toilet paper,”
She hears a voice behind her say.
She turns to face a grave neighbor,
Whose haggard eyes give her away.
So to this shopper, tulips pass,
As laughter fills the checkout aisle.
The woman stops, a bit aghast,
To know that hope is still worthwhile…
<<<~~~>>>
Take note of fear that wends its way
And causes havoc thereupon.
It has no power o’er our days
When hope is shared and then passed on… 
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a poem, in any format, on the subject of Hope, for these traumatic times we are all experiencing. |
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Hope
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