Darth Poet Mom!
Nov. 3rd, 2011 01:04 pmBeen reciting this to myself all day as I drove through fading fall colors under a chilly gray November sky.
The kids are home for Teachers' meetings, and Obi has gone walkabout, because it's a beautiful perfect day. So I read him this. while wearing my CPAP. Hence the title
My November Guest
by Robert Frost
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.
Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.
Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.
The kids are home for Teachers' meetings, and Obi has gone walkabout, because it's a beautiful perfect day. So I read him this. while wearing my CPAP. Hence the title
My November Guest
by Robert Frost
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.
Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.
Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.
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Date: 2011-11-03 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-03 08:01 pm (UTC)