Several years ago, my brilliant, fun, tasteful and well-travelled friends, Jules and Linda created a Christmas card from a poem they'd seen on a poster in the London Underground. It spoke to me and I framed it where it still hangs in my livingroom. I've since found that this poem has spoken to a lot of people...see Wikipedia - Sheenagh Pugh.
The poem is entitled 'Sometimes'.
Sometimes things don't go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don't fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.
A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man; decide they care enough,
that they can't leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.
Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss; sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen; may it happen for you.