Russrocks
Mine is: Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.
The Road Not Taken
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.
I also love Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven and Annabel Lee.
By Charles Johnson
From the creation of the universe
with one big bang we started on our way
as mere specks of dust traveling through space
destined to find each other again one day
We journeyed for what was truly forever
in a vacuum so cold, dark and all alone
then so long ago we settled on a planet
this strange new place would become our home
As time went by we became the life
that on this planet was nurtured by the sun
but ever wandering all through time searching
for the other half, desiring the other one
We have passed so close to each other
truly a billion times, almost side by side
but not until this special moment
did the universe allow us to once again collide
Some lovers find fireworks, the earth moves,
or music as they kiss, compared to us that is not much
our fireworks go back to our beginning as we feel
the big bang explosion again, each times our lips touch
We have been destined to find each other
since the beginning of time
Now that we are together
Forever I am yours, and you will always be mine
11 Answers
valR
daren1
lindilou
On Children
Kahlil Gibran
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Marianna, Kahlil's Sister. Painting by Kahlil Gibran
| 12 years ago. Rating: 11 | |
jhharlan
itsmee
I like anything by Shel Silverstein
Dylan Thomas ... Tad Wojnicki (My mentor)
| 12 years ago. Rating: 10 | |
Bob/PKB
pythonlover
Footsteps In The Sand
One night a man had a dream.He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the LORD.Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand:one belonging to him, and the other to the LORD.
When the last scene of his life flashed before himhe looked back, at the footprints in the sand.He noticed that many times along the path of his lifethere was only one set of footprints.He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times of his life.
This really bothered him and he questioned the LORD about it:"LORD, you said that once I decided to follow you,you'd walk with me all the way.But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my lifethere is only one set of footprints.I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me."
The LORD replied:"My son, My precious child, I love you and I would never leave you,During your times of trial and suffering,when you see only one set of footprints in the sand, it was then that I carried you."
| 12 years ago. Rating: 9 | |
Chiangmai
Shootah
whovin
Dardaigh
December Leaves
The fallen leaves are cornflakes
that fill the lawn's wide dish.
And night and noon, the wind's a spoon
that stirs them with a swish.
The sky's a silver sifter,
a-sifting soft and slow
that gently shakes on crisp brown flakes
the sugar known as snow.
-Kaye Starbird
Actually this is not my favourite poem but it is how I found akaQA and all the wonderful people here.
Ducky was kind enough to find the link and reply right away.
I am still trying to decide what is my favourite poem.
| 12 years ago. Rating: 4 | |
