The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost

 

Submit your poems here for the new YouTube channel.

 

Love…

Sahar Raman Deep.

YouTube Poetry Reading

Hey friends! How about it? I was thinking of starting a YouTube channel where poetry is read live, and you read your own poems while I read great poets of our times, and the classics.

Or, should we make it a recorded one and i read the poems which you have sent along with your names, and of other renowned writers.

Thanks for your love.  ….Sahar RD

Generations!

Good were the days
When grandma cooked
And all the children
Sat around her-….

Good were the days
When grandma cooked
And all the children
Sat around her-
Crossed legged, and silent.
The roti took time to bake,
And, we fought for it!
So granny set the turns,
And we would eat
Slowly from our bowls
With small bites of bread
So as not to be done
Before the next chapati came!
Finish we eating,
And off we went
To swim in poodles!

Good were the days
When mom cooked
And we sat on table
With father on the big chair
And ate rice,
And home cooked noodles-
Laughing at small jokes,
And went to bed
With affectionate kisses;
Read a book
And dreamt of morning!

Now my children,
With their heads buried in phones
Wait for food
Ordered online
To fill their bellies!

I sit alone
With my husband
Sipping some soup,
Silent and gloomy.
And I wonder,
When my daughter shall cook….

…… Sahar Raman Deep
1/14/17

Rain and Storm

Not in rain
Is there a purpose
Of wind to
Water the garden

The little droplets
Of Nature’s beautiful sprinkler
Mean to grow
Everything liveful.

But,
Only stones can stand
The blow of the blow
And sometimes even
Mountains fly in cyclone.

Everything pleasant
Even if the loving human
Or God’s religion
Or even the soft breeze,
When gets violent,
Trees uproot,
Stones break,
And,
Mountains sand!

…. Sahar Raman Deep
01/06/17