August 5, 2010

The Sound of Trees

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--Description: 20th C, Frost R., Aging, Life, Nature--


I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say, But I shall be gone.


Robert Frost

--Did You Know: (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963) Frost was an American poet. He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech.[1] His work frequently employed settings from rural life in New England in the early twentieth century, using them to examine complex social and philosophical themes. A popular and often-quoted poet, Frost was honored frequently during his lifetime, receiving four Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry. Frost's poems are critiqued in the "Anthology of Modern American Poetry", Oxford University Press, where it is mentioned that behind a sometimes charmingly familiar and rural fa├žade, Frost's poetry frequently presents pessimistic and menacing undertones which often are either unrecognized or unanalyzed. Read more at: Robert Frost

--Word of the Day: sapid\SAP-id\, adjective:
1. Having taste or flavor, especially having a strong pleasant flavor.
2. Agreeable to the mind; to one's liking.
Quote:
Chemistry can concentrate the sapid and odorous elements of the peach and the bitter almond into a transparent fluid
-David William Cheever, "Tobacco", The Atlantic, August 1860

--Quote of the Day: Angels can fly because they can take themselves lightly.
- G.K. Chesterton

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