A TIME TO TALK
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am,
"What is it?"
No, not as there is
a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe into
the mellow ground
Blade-end up and
five feet tall,
And plod: I go
up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
One of my very favourite poets is
Robert Frost (1874 - 1963).
I love his poetry and read it often.
I think Frosts' poem
"Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Afternoon"
must have been among one of the first poems
that I ever had to memorize.
I remember that I had to recite it
at our school Christmas pageant.
I must have been around seven or so.
In the small village that I grew up in everyone went
to the school or church pageants and talent shows.
All the grown-up ladies and your little brothers or sisters
sat on those hard wooden chairs
while the men stood at the back or side aisles of the room.
One by one, we children went up and showed our talent,
or in some cases, lack of talent.
No child was ever exempt from any pageant or talent show.
EVER!
Even if all you did was wear your
Mom or dads bathrobe and a towel on your head,
to be transformed into a shepherd or wise man for the evening,
remaining mute and never speaking a word for an hour or so,
you were, to your parents, grandparents and snickering siblings,
the star of the evening.
Sigh.......I am doing it again......I digress.
As I was saying, Robert Frost is a good read.
He is a poet for all.
Robert Frost (1874 - 1963).
I love his poetry and read it often.
I think Frosts' poem
"Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Afternoon"
must have been among one of the first poems
that I ever had to memorize.
I remember that I had to recite it
at our school Christmas pageant.
I must have been around seven or so.
In the small village that I grew up in everyone went
to the school or church pageants and talent shows.
All the grown-up ladies and your little brothers or sisters
sat on those hard wooden chairs
while the men stood at the back or side aisles of the room.
One by one, we children went up and showed our talent,
or in some cases, lack of talent.
No child was ever exempt from any pageant or talent show.
EVER!
Even if all you did was wear your
Mom or dads bathrobe and a towel on your head,
to be transformed into a shepherd or wise man for the evening,
remaining mute and never speaking a word for an hour or so,
you were, to your parents, grandparents and snickering siblings,
the star of the evening.
Sigh.......I am doing it again......I digress.
As I was saying, Robert Frost is a good read.
He is a poet for all.
To read more of Robert Frost's works or to
read more about the man himself:
http://www.emule.com/poetry/?author=43&page=overview http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/a_f/frost/frost.htm
http://www.emule.com/poetry/?author=43&page=overview http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/a_f/frost/frost.htm
2 comments:
Cool! I didn't know that you liked Robert Frost. He is my favourite poet, as well. I feel that he is totally at one with nature.
Keep up the good work. I love your blog. You are good!
Carolyn
That reminds me (hope I remember it properly):
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep - and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep."
Love that poem!
Bridie
Post a Comment