The challenge today was to take an Emily Dickinson poem and craft it into something else, adding and subtracting words and altering line breaks. I chose her poem ‘Hope’ and my own feelings about a walk we did today along the white cliffs of Dover.
Delight
is a thing
with feathers.
It soars above
the white cliffs
of Dover where
buttercups glow. Ā
Delight
sings without
words.
It rises
like the skylark,
spiralling
higher and higher.
Delight
is shimmering
white.
It flows in
with the waves
and settles
in the soul.Ā
LyndyH 
Oh just lovely
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