Poems

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.

T.S Eliot

I always loved this poem. It appeals to me, to a part of me that loves the dreaminess of it and the anticipation.

It is slightly like sunlight through a stained glass window. The light refracts and you are surrounded by a million different colors. You put your hand out and it is dappled with shadows and light. Out of the darkness, he says, there will come hope. All you have to do is keep the faith.

I have never really been able to understand poetry. Much of it is a garble of words to me and i cannot be bothered to make sense of it. But there are some sonnets or verses that u hear, and you stop and u will remember them forever. The Charge of the Light Brigade for the sheer stupidity that lead those poor doomed men into battle. Lochinvar for it's chivalry. Pablo Neruda's sonnet XVII ,because that's how most people (and certainly me) want to be loved. And this one. Eliot won a Nobel Prize for the Four Quartets. It is easy to see why.