In my continuing series of famous poems loved by the BBC’s listeners and ruined by me we reach Robert Frost and The Road Not Taken. I have also utilized Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
For years I never gave it thought
Until the day when alone I stood
And, like dawn at last, I understood
That was the way I’d always sought.
It curved and fell amongst the hills
A twisted spine, a placid stream
A way for good, a path to ills
A vein of calm, a ride for thrills
Of hope and fear, an undreamt dream.
Its end, just then, like mine, unknown
My eye it sought, yet never found;
Youth, like corn in tilled soil sown
Wishes itself already grown,
Free of the wait to which it’s bound.
I chose that road, it’s mine to follow,
Each step reveals what before was hid.
Everyone was once so callow
Yet walk we must our pride to swallow
Since without, we may as well be dead.
The way will change, at times we’re lost
Horizons crossed, our future shown;
It’s there for us, our guiding host
Pointing us to that final coast
Where we’ll depart, our time here gone.
And what if we have never taken
That road that was till then less traveled?
What future would we have forsaken,
From what dreams would we not awaken?
What riddle would have remained unraveled?
It is not for us to see the way
Our lives might go before we choose,
So in the sun, let’s make our hay
And dodge the storms as best we may
And walk that path wherever it leads.