POET'S LAIR

What is your all-time favorite Frost poem?

I'm torn between "The Rabbit Hunter" and "Brown's Descent", although I haven't made my way through the anthology yet.
 
I personally like "nothing gold can stay" by frost

What Say You

What say you?
Yes you,
who won't tell.
To you,
I am nothing.
But I am something to me.
I, who wants to know,
what you won't tell
I'm asking you.
Yes you.
So...
What say you?
 
Appreciating the Frost poems. Did anyone notice my previous post regarding The Dymock Poets? It was addressed to Bulldog at the time, but it refers , among others, to what appears to be an important time in Frost's life.
 
Are you ready? Ready for what ready for this just another Donkey original true and steady....

A reflection appears but why, who
It sparkles and you wonder for who

Who is this and what now, has time really gone this fast
Deep down you peer, it sort of resembles something of a past

Is it really, has it gone this fast, but what lies ahead you ask
You leave the past knowing it brought you here and now you must finish
this task

Gather this past and carry it with you on this path that lies ahead
Never dwelling on what cant be changed, it's already in your head

You gather yourself stand back from this lake, breath deep
Forward we go, through it all together even as we lay deep in sleep

Brother and sister we all are; forever as we take this fearful leap
In we jump feet first tall and proud no matter how far, together we
will conquer this mighty feat

For future, past, and present as you walk through this valley of the
shadow of death fear no evil for I am with you and again we shall meet

Please kindly note this is a rough and a work in progress it is not done yet or perhaps it is who knows only the present and the past....
 
Here is a short one I wrote not to long ago...

Sometimes in life you wonder why

Why has time passed me by

Why did things happen that way

Why did I not just speak up and say

Why now has the time gone by

Why do I wonder why

Sometimes in life you wonder why
 
Ok now for something from the sensitive side...hahahaha

Her - Is it you maybe so you never know


[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]The simple existence of this worldly wonder is a marvel to behold[/FONT]

[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif] Her mere presence makes the world slow makes everything seem to unfold[/FONT]

[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif] Just knowing her existence gives you the persistence to define your existence[/FONT]

[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif] Even the few moments you've spent are your most cherished, for instance[/FONT]

[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif] You wish to see her sparkle, every day you wonder when again you will get to hold[/FONT]

[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif] This worldly wonder this sparkle this princess this goddess maybe never, maybe that's life but all you needed was that one moment to behold[/FONT]

To her by me ;)​
 
OK guys - you have got it coming. When I get the time I am gonna hit you with some stuff!

Enjoying Donkey's work.
 
What dreams are made of.


I dreamed that I lived in a country
Where even the poor were proud.
Where locked doors were for darkness.
Where heroes stood out in each crowd.
Where mugging had not been invented;
Was never imported at all.
Where all streets were safe for our children.
Where police would respond to a call
And were keen to stand up for a victim.
Where burglars would go to the wall.


I dreamed that I lived in a country
And everyone there could afford
A roof to cover their head;
Their daily soup and their bread;
And they lived side by side in accord.
Where church bells peeled out every Sunday.
Where fair play and justice prevailed
And freedom was treasured like diamonds,
With all that such freedom entailed.

And then I asked someone to pinch me
And found that I wasn’t asleep.
I had lived in that dream in the England
Politicians neglected to keep.
 
Nice Del

I started thinking of like a medieval time period English fairy tale setting...then I read the last lines...brilliant!
 
Appreciated guys, and Donkey, you are very kind. The memory is the one I have of my country - long gone now I fear. Cast aside.

Incidentally, it is the country which your great American poet, Frost, would have known when he lived in Dymock, Gloucestershire, pre WW1 with the group of other great poets, like Wilfred Owen. My Dad's era. I inherited that set of values, adjusted of course by WW1 and then WW11.
 
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Somerset farm - WW11. Small boy and dog guarding seed in wheat-field.





My crystal ball remembers all,
Of furrowed fields and wheat-ears tall;
Of chasing starlings from the seed,
Repulsing their piratic greed.
Birds’ expertise beats dog and call.

Deep and steep ploughed furrows run;
Tough going for a little one.
The dog enjoys the frantic chase;
The birds fly high from place to place;
The boy brings out his wooden gun.

The birds aren’t scared, they know the game,
Shouts and shotguns, all the same.
High and fast, from end to end;
Telephone wires the starlings’ friend.
No starlings leave, they all remain.

Ploughman’s lunch arrives at last;
Crust, cheese and cocoa, consumed fast.
Dog stands by and smiles a smile.
He’s keen to chase on for a while;
When spring has sprung the chase has passed.

A simple dream that I recall?
My crystal ball remembers all.
 
Del Boy said:
What dreams are made of.


I dreamed that I lived in a country
Where even the poor were proud.
Where locked doors were for darkness.
Where heroes stood out in each crowd.
Where mugging had not been invented;
Was never imported at all.
Where all streets were safe for our children.
Where police would respond to a call
And were keen to stand up for a victim.
Where burglars would go to the wall.


I dreamed that I lived in a country
And everyone there could afford
A roof to cover their head;
Their daily soup and their bread;
And they lived side by side in accord.
Where church bells peeled out every Sunday.
Where fair play and justice prevailed
And freedom was treasured like diamonds,
With all that such freedom entailed.

And then I asked someone to pinch me
And found that I wasn’t asleep.
I had lived in that dream in the England
Politicians neglected to keep.
Click to expand...

:thumb: that's a good one DB.
 


OK guys, just keeping the Poets' Lair charged.

Advice to Daydreamers.


If you should go to sea, my boy,
Leave school and ship - ahoy, my boy,
Your mother’s pride and joy, my boy,
There’s something you should know.


Don’t throw your weight around, my boy,
Or you will run aground my boy,
Retribution bound, my boy.
That’s one thing you should know.


And never lock the chief cook, boy
In the ship’s meat freezer, boy.
He’s such a massive geyser, boy,
He’d kill you with one blow.
So don’t forget you left him there,
He carries a meat cleaver, boy
And when he’s in a fever, boy,
He’ll send you down below.


If you should go to sea, my boy,
Don’t linger there too long.
The sea’s a passion to enjoy,
But sings a siren song.



 
ok this poem isnt very deep but it was the first poem I REALLY liked

Smile

She smiled at a sorrowful stranger.
The smile seemed to make him feel better.
He remembered past kindnesses of a friend
and wrote him a thank-you letter.
The friend was so pleased with the thank-you
that he left a large tip after lunch.
The waitress, surprised by the size of the tip,
bet the whole thing on a hunch.
The next day she picked up her winnings,
and gave part to a man on the street.
The man on the street was grateful;
for two days he'd had nothing to eat.
After he finished his dinner,
he left for his small dingy room.
(He didn't know at the moment
that he might be facing his doom.)
On the way he picked up a shivering puppy
and took him home to get warm.
The puppy was very grateful
to be in out of the storm.
That night the house caught on fire.
The puppy barked the alarm.
He barked 'til he woke the whole household
and saved everybody from harm.
One of the boys that he rescued
grew up to be President.
All this because of a simple smile
that hadn't cost a cent.

Barbara Hauck, age 13
 
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