We have travelled <br />through winter <br />with its painful <br />windows of hard frost, <br />the fire in th grate <br />empty with dead ash, <br />to see blood buds break... <br />springing out of <br />hard pruned punishment <br />into hopeful glory <br />of future summer roses <br />on our pallid, sorry cheeks.<br /><br />Sally Plumb Plumb<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/high-hopes-9/
