The Road not Taken by Robert Frost.

I'm going through a real poetry splurge of late. Perhaps nostlagia but meh the old favourites of my youth will never fade. I do like this poem. I like it even more than Jenny Johnson's 'When I am Old I will wear a Purple Hat.' because it describes life and nostaligia of life, Looking back to look forward.

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The Road not Taken
Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

and sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveller, 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

layin leaves no feet 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 travelled by,

and that has made all the difference

the night

This is one of the first poems I have written in several years. I don't know why I felt the need to put it on this blog, as my poetry has always been quiet a private affair up to this point. However I felt the compulsion to do this so I am.

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the night

It is night outside.
The cold is apparent, wrapped around
a dark tall Oak tree.
Yet while I am warm inside and out of harm, the cold
which infects the night has
attached itself to me.

There have been warmer days; Joyous
heartful involved days. Warmth
appeared from the unlikely of places and times and moved
quickly to a place where heat had not been
felt for the longest of times.

Yet that heat has faded,
not because it was unwanted
but rather taken and quenched
like the dying ambers of a
turf fire; the cold awaiting to wrap with fervor its
claws and claim it for
the night.

(c) John James 2007