“The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost
Here is another one of my favorite poems. It is, as you can tell by the title, “The Road Not Taken”, by Robert Frost. Enjoy!
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
What did you think? Who is your favorite, and what is your favorite poem? Have you read poems by Robert Frost before? Let me know in the comments below!
“The Idea” by Anne B. Caitlin
Today I am sharing yet another one of my poems: “The Idea”. This is another one of my favorite created poems.
The words mingled in her mindAnne B. Caitlin
Swirling, whirling, a golden find.
She raced up to her room
Praying to find some paper soon
Grasping, clasping the memory close
Before the lovely lines bid adios.
In a swirl in a frenzy scratched the feather
Upon the little tree bound in leather,
Blocking all sound ‘cept the supper chime.
She did not dare to dine
Whilst remained the revelation.
Insistent rang the bell, still did she not come.
Fought she fiercely, struggled strongly,
Wrestling the idea’s resistance singly.
A slip, a dash, a tackle down–
‘Till at last the battle was done.
Heart beating, heavy breathing,
Slumping to her seat, the wing-
Feather flying with the weary wind.
Her feat was recorded and
The deed by dinner rewarded.
Her mind was done, but then was fed.
While this was one of my more… old-fashioned-words style poems, I loved “the idea” of this poem. This describes a lot of writers’ experience with ideas. The frantic search for paper, pen, phone, computer, or typewriter before they forget the idea. The suddenness of the inspiration–it doesn’t wait for a good time to appear. It just pops into your head, demanding immediate attention and insisting to be written down at once.
What do you think? What was your favorite/least favorite line(s)? What do you like to write your ideas down on?
Hope you’re having a great week!
“The Wind and the Oak” poem by Anne B. Caitlin
Today I am sharing one of my own favorite created poems. Let me know what you think of it in the comments below!
Oak stood upon a hilly ridge.Anne B. Caitlin
Wind whirled and whistled
And all bowed before his will.
He swept Oak’s sorrow from her gaze
And blew her burdens away.
She gazed in awe at the glorious
Swaying, worshipping grass
Which hummed and fluted
Praise to Wind’s wonderful power.
Wind whispered and wondered
At Oak’s thoughtful stand.
“What are you thinking?” Asked he.
Slowly responded she.
“I watch motion’s mysteries,
I ponder the path of the breeze.
What wisdom does Wind contain?
From whence he came,
No one has been informed.
To where he goes,
No one knows.
Can you tell me please,
Who your Maker be?”
“He is the Master of the sea,
The Word, the Life, the Light be He.
He directs my path,
All knowledge He hath.
I know not where I go,
Except that where He says, there I blow.”
My favorite line(s) out of the whole poem has to be, “I know not where I go, except that where He says, there I blow.” Too often in our lives are we blind, uncertain, and scared of the future–we have no idea how it will go, or what will happen. We can only live on a day-by-day basis. But the pressure’s not on us to know exactly what we’re going to do and where we’re going to go. All we need to do is “trust and obey” God every moment of our lives. He has the plan and knows what will happen.
Thanks for reading! What was your favorite (& least favorite) line(s)–if any? Any critiques? Comment below!
A poem by me and a blog update!
Hola, Reader! It’s been awhile!
As you know, I post rather irregularly. I struggle to find a good posting frequency that works with my busy schedule. So now I will be trying to post at least once, if not twice a month. Every week (or every other week), I will be posting a poem–either of my own or by someone else. Then, once a month, I will post an update on my writing/reading. Sound like a good plan? Let me know what you think below!
Unripened words on the tree of the mind
When ripe they're split open and eaten
Some are rotten and thrown away
Others are juicy and full of meat.
For what are words but the fruit of imaginations?
What are words except the whispers of the wind?
What are words, the forces that drive all emotions?
What are words, the ideas that flip the world upside down?
No man can live on bread alone
But on the very words of God;
Words have power though they're unseen
Words can't be explained by science.
In order to grow words
A mustard seed must be first planted
And watered and loved so that it grows
Into the solid tree that develops fruit.
It can't be abandoned or it will die
It oughtn't be left a seed forever
It needs firm roots and a solid soul for soil
Then it will grow into the tree
Where birds will nest in its branches.
If it doesn't grow no birds will come
There'll be no shade under its branches
Ideas won't blossom and prompts won't roost
Within its nonexistent branches.
These ideas make the world
And change it for ever
Don't waste the fruit of this seed
Or it will take down other seeds.
Words have the power to burn the trees
They have the strength to fly the bees
Whispers untold will fold the world
And exclamations shake it.
-Anne B. Caitlin
This poem came out in a kind of song form, rather than just a poem. I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think of it in the comments below!
Let me know if you have any suggestions for posts and/or post frequency! What did you think of the poem? Did you see any ways I could improve it? Comment below!