Born on the crisp blue western shore
But soon with family eastward bound
To be well known forevermore:
Echoer of all sight and sound,
Born of that rich cold eastern shore.
A young man to Harvard was bound
But cared little for keeping score
So without degree would be found
To be a cobbler, an editor:
In many things his skills were sound.
Later, he married wife Elinor,
Whose own mind quite quick and sound.
Farming they lived ten years or more
Before seeking more fertile ground
Leaving,to write on England’s shore.
Literary fame did abound
As he had never seen before,
Now friends with the Miss Ezra Pound
His works were published more and more
Making his career very sound.
He wrote of birch and sycamore,
Of neighbors feuding all year-round,
Of winter chilling to the core,
Of every known sight, scent, and sound,
Every sensation to explore.
And in that detailed sight and sound
Is a sweet grace none can ignore.
This is why Robert Frost was bound
To reach, with ease, the nation’s core
Of Pulitzers earning a mound.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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A poem by a poet on a poet. Interesting form with the alternating rhyme through 5 lines. The 5th line comes back almost like an echo, as in a song.
Good title. Birches is one of my favorites. We had a severe ice storm here a few years back which permanently bent a lot of the supple trees. They remind me of Birches.
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This IS such an excellent poem! I loved it! The 5th stanza is stunningly powerful! Just a great poem!
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A Masterpiece of Wit and Brilliance
I simply adore this piece! Of course, you know that my feelings for Robert Frost run deep, but I fell in love with him again through the words of this poem -- which is a feat that only a gifted artist can accomplish. And, you, my dear, are a gifted artist, indeed. The rhyme and the meter of each line is perfectly measured, placed, and executed, and the flow is magnificently flawless. However, the facet of this poem that is more befitting to Robert Frost, himself, is the way that you skillfully highlighted some of the images that he made famous in his own poetry. Thus, I think that you should be very proud of this write because I think that Frost would be flattered, as well he should be, and would reward you with a smile of gratitude for keeping his legacy alive by sharing it with the future generation. Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! Keep up the wonderful artistry and inspiration that you bring with every stroke of your pen, for it is, truly, one of your extraordinary and cherished God-given talents.
Although I see that you ask your readers to offer constructrive criticism to you, I'm afraid that I have much to offer you. You did a fantastic job on this poem, and I wish you could step back and see your pieces for what they really are. You are absolutely too hard on yourself -- your own worst enemy, if you will. However, here is my solitary piece of criticism: Since the words of "The Road Not Taken" have become synnonymous with who I am, I would've done cartwheels across my bedroom floor if you had incorporated imagery that hinted at and embodied the meaning of that poem.
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