Persephone's Pomegranate's Reviews > The Poetry of Robert Frost
The Poetry of Robert Frost
by
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.
Reading Robert Frost is like dancing in the woods on a saturday morning, drinking peppermint hot chocolate and listening to your favorite music all rolled into one.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Poetry is so magical. It feeds the mind, heart and soul. It's like an old friend. A good song. Love. Nature.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I�
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Pure feel-good escapism.
Some are darker than others, but equally beautiful.
My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Robert Frost's work continues to inspire and endure.
by

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.
Reading Robert Frost is like dancing in the woods on a saturday morning, drinking peppermint hot chocolate and listening to your favorite music all rolled into one.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Poetry is so magical. It feeds the mind, heart and soul. It's like an old friend. A good song. Love. Nature.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I�
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Pure feel-good escapism.
Some are darker than others, but equally beautiful.
My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Robert Frost's work continues to inspire and endure.
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Azet
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Feb 22, 2021 07:42AM

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Thank you for this.

Poetry is sheer escapism for me. I find it incredibly relaxing. Is that weird? lol
![Vaishali • [V.L. Book Reviews]](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1700331868p1/85343546.jpg)
When it's the right type of poetry for you, it can especially feel magical �

When it's the right type of poetry for you, it can especially feel magical �"
Thank you for your sweet comment ;)

Here are some of my favorites - Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, My November Guest, Fire and Ice, Nothing Gold Can Stay and The Road Not Taken.
You should also check out Bright Star: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne, Prayer to Persephone by Edna St. Vincent Millay, Persephone Speaks by Daniella Michalleni, Splendour in the Grass by William Wordsworth, I Like People Who've Seen Some Darkness by Florence Welch, I'm sorry you couldn't find me by Florence Welch, She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron.

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.
I think it was the first poem I ever memorized...

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early lea..."
Nothing Gold Can Stay is beautiful. It was featured in the movie 'The Outsiders.'