Whispering Hope   1 comment

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My Daddy could sing. His voice was as warm and comforting as the man who sang this song on the record we played at Christmas time. Daddy never sang a solo anywhere that I recall. His concerts were just for the family.

Soft as the voice of an angel,
Breathing a lesson unheard,
Hope with a gentle persuasion
Whispers her comforting word:
Wait till the darkness is over,
Wait till the tempest is done,
Hope for the sunshine tomorrow,
After the shower is gone.

  • Whispering hope, oh, how welcome thy voice,
    Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice.

Posted December 3, 2013 by Charis Psallo in Art, Photography, Water, Winter

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One response to “Whispering Hope

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