The Road Not Taken

By ROBERT FROST



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; 5

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, 10

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. 15

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. 20


Wishing you all a wonderful day.

I love that one!!!!

My favorite!

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
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.

I like Robert Frost but I also like Edgar Alen Poe's the Raven and some of his short stories.

Thank you for sharing that Rozey!

No way,Very kewl indeed.He is my most cherished Poet.He also is the reason I write poetry.And he is also the reason that my pen name is Cybear.He hails from Lawrence,Mass which is not 2 far from my town.U Rawk!gurl.I'm honored 2 be ur friend.Woo-Hoo!Godspeed!Cy

"The Bear"

The bear puts both arms around the tree above him
And draws it down as if it were a lover,
And its choke cherries lips to kiss good-bye
Then lets it snap back upright in the sky.

His next step rocks a boulder on the wall
He's making his cross-country in the fall,
His great weight creaks the barbed-wire in it's staples
As he flings over and off down through the maples.

Leaving on one wire moth a lock of hair
Such is the uncaged progress of the bear,
The world has room to make a bear feel free
The universe seems cramped to you and me.

Man acts more like the poor bear in a cage
That all day fights a nervous inward rage,
His mood rejecting all his mind suggests
He paces back and forth and never rests.

The constant click and shuffle of his feet
The telescope at one end of his beat,
And at the other end the microscope
Two instruments of nearly equal hope.

And in conjunction giving quite a spread
Or if he rests from scientific tread,
Tis only to sit back and sway his head
Through ninety odd degrees of arc it seems.

Between two metaphysical extremes
He sits back on his fundamental butt,
With lifted snout and eyes(if any)shut
lie almost looks religious but he's not.

And back and forth he sways from cheek to cheek
At one extreme agreeing with one Greek,
At the other agreeing with another Greek
Which may be thought,but only so to speak,
A baggy figure,equally pathetic
When sedentary and when peripatetic.

p.s.this poem was written by one of the finest
writers ever known to Man.{Robert Lee Frost}.
Certainly one of my all time fav.Author/Poet
Written by Robert.L.Frost/Humbely submitted by Cybear.

Oh, my Lord!!! This is what my Mother wanted read at her funeral, and it was.

I majored in English in college. Read Frost and ****inson and many more, but my favorite is a fairly obscure piece written by an Indiana attorney: Desiderata.

-- written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s --

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.


With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Usmale... thank you for sharing that piece today... very nice!

Cybear.... Robert Frost certainly inspired me to write as well. I have been told my poetry is like Woodsworth.

Thanks for posting Mystique.

Another of Robert Frost's I particularly like:

The Telephone

When I was just as far as I could walk
From here to-day,
There was an hour
All still
When leaning with my head against a flower
I heard you talk.
Don't say I didn't, for I heard you say--
You spoke from that flower on the window sill-
Do you remember what it was you said?'

'First tell me what it was you thought you heard.'

'Having found the flower and driven a bee away,
I leaned my head
And holding by the stalk,
I listened and I thought I caught the word--
What was it? Did you call me by my name?
Or did you say--
Someone said "Come" -- I heard it as I bowed.'

'I may have thought as much, but not aloud.'

"Well, so I came.

Thank you Britty for sharing! I enjoyed all of the poems people have posted on here.

(((Msytique)))

(((Teddy))) Hope you are well.

I feel humble as to have never read, not one book or poem to ever remember. But these are grand and nice to read.