30 March, 2012

{poetically plagiarized} 1: Frost

The poetry challenge continued, and on Day 31 I was to write a narrative poem dealing with regret and/or self-satisfaction and consisting of four stanzas of iambic tetrameter (though being hypermetric by one beat was allowable). I think I did quite well.
The Road Not Taken

               Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
               And sorry I could not travel both
               And be one traveller, 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.
Robert Frost, 1916