The Smell of Hope

Written by: Christine Phillips

The sun rises this morning with its fresh fragrance
Spilling rays of hope, and love everywhere
While the morning looks proudly at me,
And danced away its aged old misery
The smell of hope lingers beyond the shore
And a multitude of pleasure is waiting at my door
The silent music is vibrating in the sand
And the fishermen are singing a merry song
The wind is blowing over the mountain
Speaking to the silent trees
Awake, Awake, Awake
A loud voice resonates, 
beckoning them to come to me
Here I am sitting underneath the big cherry tree
With thick branches crisscrossing one another
And angels sitting around covering me on the throne
An infinite story is wrapped up in the tree but only time
can unveil its mystery.
There is not much cherry on the tree as I speak
 As one crop is over, another crop comes on
 And as soon as it ends, the cherry cycle starts again
I looked clearly between the shrubs 
To see if I could phantom what is really going on
But all I could see is radiant skies
 glaring at me through the thick  cherry bushes 
And humming a penitent tune about the big round moon
Today is a special day, and it is different
From any other day, the heat is a little intense
But I feel victory dancing around the bench
We have gone through these stages before
When courage met face to face at my door
My heart was strong, my spirit was deep
And no matter what you do, 
you and I could not compete
 I could only understand the vessel on the stand
And the vibrating sound of music all over the land
Elated face gathered at the counter to place the final order
I could never understood how you cross through the thick wood
With blades of grass parachuting up to your waist
When the people rise up and become conscious
 They will have to drink from the golden cup
The battle is not over the aces
Neither is it over the deck
The battle is over the sexes
I have so much that I want to say to you
I have so much that I want to do for you
You over there and I am sitting here, 
We have a lot to share
Come and dine with me 
and let me hear your story
Come and dine with me 
and share your glory
A shilling or a pound, 
a dime or a dollar 
It doesn't matter, 
Whether liberty or crown
I have to get out of this miserable town
This is not your story, it is my story.
And it is time to publish it.
Hope always wins.