...it's not dark yet, but it's gettin' there...
Poetry Wednesday is like Desmond's crappy 80's Apple II on Lost. What would happen if i didn't enter the code and push the button every week?
Update: i chickened out.
Octoberby Robert Frost
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
To-morrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
To-morrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow,
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know;
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away;
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.
What would happen if i didn't enter the code and push the button every week?
Normally people don't ask questions they know the answer to...but to remind you: You'd get me screaming, "Where's the poetry?" and starting some stupid haiku contest.
Nice selection, BTW.
Posted by: Victor on Oct. 12, 2005You and I share not only a love for poetry, but a love for autumn.
Of course, Frost -- living where he did -- wanted fall to come slow; we Californians (after blistering summers and Santa Anas) can't wait for a bit of a chill!
Posted by: Hugo on Oct. 12, 2005