Leave no stone unturned.

It was a dreary dismal day

The drizzle spilled like tears down the kitchen window.

What have we become? We of so little value,

Worth not perfunctory care and consideration.

Has hope hidden itself under some far-flung rock?

I will leave no stone unturned.


©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for d’Verse quadrille on the subject rock.

The image was taken yesterday at Lake Windermere.

I guess it is treasures like the one on this rock that remind us that there are always moments to be valued.


Author: alisonhankinson

Walking tall whenever I can.

19 thoughts on “Leave no stone unturned.”

  1. Hope is like a virus; nearly indestructible as it clings to the bottoms & backsides of so many things. It may spring out upon discovery, or have to be peeled out laboriously.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I consider it hopeful that stones can be turned! Your poem has a ache to it; deeply felt by the reader. More so by the writer’s voice. That there is a range of responses to your poem (differing points of view) puts me in mind of the facetious rephrasing of “behind every dark cloud” that states “ahead of every silver lining is a dark cloud.” Both of them overlook the rainbow promise that only comes when precipitation is somewhere present in one’s life. A promise that others read, hear, or somehow become aware — and are lifting up the distressed one in supplication.

    Liked by 1 person

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