March marks the
birthday month of famous American poet, Robert Frost....
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When I was just
a little girl, my mother would read simple poetry to my sister, Nancy, and I
whilst we sipped tea from baby pink tea cups and ate cake, biscuits or scones…
We sat under a
shady tree in the summer and inside at a prettily arranged tea table in the
winter – we always had a baked treat to go along with the reading and plenty of
tea!
Those were such
precious days and I treasure them still - memories were made and minds were
filled…
One of the first
poems we ever read together was, ‘Christopher
Robin goes to Buckingham Palace. I
still love that poem and enjoy repeating the first line to myself on occasion
or with my sisters!
But, as I was
saying, the famous American poet, Robert Frost would have celebrated his 241st
birthday on the 26 of March, and I thought compiling a few of his poems would
be a lovely way to note and remember this great poet’s works!!
These are a few
of his poems that I personally enjoyed…
Nothing Gold Can
Stay
Nature’s first
green is gold,
Her hardest hue
to hold.
Her early leaf’s
a flower;
But only so an
hour.
Then leaf
subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to
grief,
So dawn goes
down to day
Nothing gold can
stay.
By Robert Frost
Stopping by the
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 is there
is some mistake.
The only other
sound’s the sweep
Of easy 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.
By Robert Frost
A Late Walk
When I go up
through the mowing field,
The headless
aftermath,
Smooth-laid like
thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden
path.
And when I come
to the garden ground,
The whir of
sober birds
Up from the
tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than
any words
A tree bedside
the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that
lingered brown,
Disturbed, I
doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly
rattling down.
I end not far
from my going forth
By picking the
faded blue
Of the last
remaining aster flower
To carry again
to you.
By Robert Frost
And as it is
always interesting to know more about the writer of such poems, here are a few
things about Robert Frost which I thought you may like to know…
Robert
Lee Frost was born on March 26, 1874, in San Francisco, California.
He and his wife, Elinor, had six children.
He and his wife, Elinor, had six children.
His
work was first recognized and published in England, where he lived for a short
period of time.
Frost
is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command
of American colloquial speech.
He
was greatly influenced by classical poets and found inspiration for many of his
poems in the landscapes, speech mannerisms and folkways of New England, chiefly
Vermont and New Hampshire.
Oftentimes
Frost is praised for being a direct writer, but he cannot always be read
easily.
He
became the most popular American poet of his time.
He
died on January 29, 1963.
I hope you
enjoyed reading about this famous poet as much as I did… He was an extremely talented man who led quite a
sad life, yet he wrote so beautifully!
I love how we
can remember him and enjoy his works even now, all these years later…
Do you have a favourite Robert Frost poem? Which of the above three poems do you like
the most?
May your day be
blessed!
Bibliography:
2012 World Book – Frost, Robert
Wikipedia – The Free Encyclopaedia, Robert Lee Frost
