What's your favourite poem?

may god bless us all

Oooo it's 'The Road Not Taken' (not 'less' taken...) but that's also one of my favourite poems! Frost writes such awesome poetry because of the many many ways his words can be interpreted. This is '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 travelled by,

And that has made all the difference.

"Dreams" by Edward A. Guest:

One broken dream is not the end of dreaming.

One shattered hope is not the end of hoping.

Beyond the storm and the tempest, stars are gleaming.

Still build your castles though your castles fall.

Though many dreams come tumbling down in disaster,

And pain and heartache move you down in years,

Still keep your faith and dare your hopes to master.

And never cry that you have ceased to dream.

Not all is as it should be,

See how littered with sorry wreckage is life’s restless stream,

Some dreams are vein but not embittered,

And may cry that you have ceased to dream.

"The Shadow on the Stone" by Thomas Hardy:

I went by the Druid stone

That broods in the garden white and lone,

And I stopped and looked at the shifting shadows

That at some moments fall thereon

From the tree hard by with a rhythmic swing,

And they shaped in my imagining

To the shade that a well-known head and shoulders

Threw there when she was gardening.

I thought her behind my back,

Yea, her I long had learned to lack,

And I said: ‘I am sure you are standing behind me,

Though how do you get into this old track?’

And there was no sound but the fall of a leaf

As a sad response; and to keep down grief

I would not turn my head to discover

That there was nothing in my belief.

Yet I wanted to look and see

That nobody stood at the back of me;

But I thought once more: ‘Nay, I’ll not unvision

A shape which, somehow, there may be.’

So I went on softly from the glade,

And left her behind me throwing her shade,

As she were indeed an apparition—

My head unturned lest my dream should fade.

I would like to be God for just one day

I would like to be God for just one day,

I'd give all my creatures a chance to play.

I would bring to the suffering quick release,

I'd give to the frightened comfort and peace.

And those that were suffering would hunger no more,

I would heal all the wounded, bleeding and sore.

I'd close all the doors where sadists reign,

With their tests and their knives so ready for pain.

I would open the doors of the cages wide,

And offer their freedom to those inside.

I would throw out the traps that lie in wait,

For a small furry creature, a cruel fate.

I would close all the bullrings and break every spear,

And the rabbit no longer the greyhound would fear.

I would clean all the oil from out of the sea,.

I would let all the fish in the nets go free.

I would throw out the arrows that pierce so deep,

I would give to the tired the blessing of sleep.

I'd close all the tracks where the races are won,

By horses abused to make them run.

I would teach little children that birds are frail,

And puppies and kittens.......don't hold by the tail.

And the bunnies and chicks and ducklings so small,

I would not let stores have for sale at all.

I would free all the animals raised for fur,

I would tear down the ranches where they were.

I would open the pens that are stacked so high,

So legs could run free and wings could fly.

I would silence the sound of the hunters guns,

I'd give speed to the legs of the fox that runs.

I would break every rope by the rodeo used,

I would comfort the cattle the cowboy abused.

I would make all the streams run pure and sweet,

I'd show mercy to animals used for meat.

I would offer green grass to the worn out nag,

I would throw out the snares in the hunters bag.

I would break all the clubs that batter their prey,

I would take all the poison and throw it away.

I would close the arenas and bloody pits,

Where roosters and dogs are torn to bits.

I'd find homes for the homeless in cities and farms,

I would gather the strays in my loving arms.

I know it's not given to mind of man

The workings of God to understand,

But oh how I long for the day to come

Bringing help for the helpless, tortured and dumb.

And I mean no irreverence because I say

I would like to be God for just one day.

invictus-william ernest henley...

Out of the night that covers me

black as the pit from pole to pole

i thank whatever gods may be

for my unconquerable soul

in the fell clutch of circumstance

i have not winced nor cried aloud

under the bludgeonings of chance

my head is bloody but unbowed

beyond this place of wrath and tears

looms but the horror of the shade

and yet the menace of the years

find, and shall find me unafraid

it matters not how strait the gate

how charged with punishment the scroll

i am the master of my fate

i am the captain of my soul

requiem- robert.L.stevenson...

Under the wide and starry sky

dig the grave and let me lie

glad did i live and gladly die

and i laid me down with a will

This be the verse you 'grave for me:

here he lies were he long'd to be

Home is the sailor home from the sea

and the hunter home from the hill.x.

The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe

I don't know why I'm so fascinated by this poem.

TREES

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree;

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer's wear,

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain,

Who intimately lives with rain;

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

By Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)

Written February 2, 1913

Shakespeare sonnet #116. Still remember from college and that was bout 43 years ago.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Translated to what it means.

I would not admit that anything could interfere with the union of two people who love each other. Love that alters with changing circumstances is not love, nor if it bends from its firm state when someone tries to destroy it. Oh no, it's an eternally fixed point that watches storms but is never itself shaken by them. It is the star by which every lost ship can be guided: one can calculate it's distance but not gauge its quality. Love doesn't depend on Time, although the rosy lips and cheeks of youth eventually come within the compass of Time's sickle. Love doesn't alter as the days and weeks go by but endures until death. If I'm wrong about this then I've never written anything and no man has ever loved.

The Tiger - William Blake.

Still in awe every time I read it, and I have known it for the last 20 years (and it was written 200 years ago).

It's a poem that deserves being rediscovered by the younger generation. Have fun reading.

My Favorite poem by Eugene Field is (Little Boy Blue)

The little toy dog is covered with dust

But sturdy and staunch he stands

The little toy soldier is red with rust

And his musket molds in his hands

Time was when the little toy dog was new

And the soldier was passing fair

That was the time when little boy blue

Kissed them and placed them there.

Now don't you go til I come he said

And don't you make any noise

Then todding off to his trundle bed

He dreamed of his little toys

While he was dreaming an angel song

Awakened our little boy blue

The years are many,the years are long

But the little toy friends are true

Still faithful to little boy blue they stand

Each in the same old place

Awaiting the touch of a little hand

The smile of a little face

They wonder as waiting the long years through

In the dust of that little chair

What has become of little boy blue

Since he kissed them and placed them there

My favorite is Shakespeare's Sonnet 116. It is truly lovely:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.