wilkes

Yes I love poetry-fav is anything by Byron,or T.S.Eliot (the waste land )really ,really good stuff .

I have a poem thread on Community Voice if anyone wants to write any on there.

A favorite of mine by Robert Frost.
Spoils of the Dead.

Two faires it was
On a still summer day
Came forth in the woods
With the flowers to play.

The flowers they plucked
They cast on the ground
For others, and those
For still others they found.

Flower-guided it was
That they came as they ran
On something that lay
In the shape of a man.

The snow must have made
The feathery bed
When this one fell
On the sleep of the dead.

But the snow was gone
A long time ago,
And the body he wore
Nigh gone with the snow.

The fairies drew near
And keenly espied
A ring on his hand
And a chain at his side.

They knelt in the leaves
And eerily played
With the glittering things,
And were not afraid.

And when they went home
To ide in their burrow,
They took tem along
To play with to-morrow.

When you came on death
Did you not come flower-guided
Like the elves in the wood?
I remember that I did.

But I recognised death
With sorrow and dread,
And I hated and hate
The spoils of the dead.

It has been a while since I have heard this Frost poem-thanks for sharing it CC! When I read Frost I usually read all the Nature poems.

I love Frost and 'Acquainted with the Night' is one of my favorites. As someone who has dealt with depression and still deals with insomnia, it really speaks to me. I also like Poe, Emily dickenson, Shakespere, and many others. I write some, but almost never share it.

While Im not a big fan of poetry. I have come across this Robert Frost poem. He speaks of depression, I just think of it because Im a bit of a night owl. Anyway, it's titled Acquainted With The Night.

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

I love limericks.

I've even written a few.

Too bad I can't recite them here.

Do we have any poetry lovers on here? If so, what are some of your favorite poets or poems?