Is a poem a nothing?
We end in a coffin.
No pleasure is found
In the cold ground.
We see what is true
So pursue Lou and Sue.
For no pleasure is found
When we enter cold ground.
We lust to forget
Our pain and regret.
For only dust is found
When we enter cold ground.
My favourite room
Is my bedroom.
A quiet place
With a bookcase
Full of books.
And a glass
Where girls look
As they pass
By. And I
Return to books.
Robert Frost is one of my favourite poets, so I was pleased to see this post on the site Interesting Literature, https://interestingliterature.com/2022/07/best-robert-frost-quotes/
There was a young man named Bert
Who liked to dress in a skirt.
A girl called Lou
Lent him 1 shoe
So he hopped along in that skirt!
We met in the wood
Where the wild flowers bud
And the ageing poet rhymes
Of his long lost springtime.
Buds turn to flowers
On the woodland path.
Our hours are finite
And pass into night.
As I write
Church bells tell
Of dust
And night.
This sunlit day
Must pass away
And I must write
Whilst there is light.
When I visited a discreet little Sauna
I was entertained by pretty Miss Lorna.
We enjoyed tea and cake
With a girl called Lake,
And a vicar who calls himself Warner …
I met a young lady named Steed
Who said, “I have a great need!”,
Dear reader, I must confess
She was wearing no dress
Which distracted my steed from his feed!
A rose
Tight closed.
All petals fall
But not all
Roses open
And unspoken
Lust is dust
In childhood we play
With fairies. But they
Do not stay
And we engage
On the world’s stage.
Then, in old age
We fancy
We see
A fairy
Ere we enter eternity.
