A POETRY, A LOVE AFFAIR.

Last night, while swimming through the ocean of thoughts, I happen to come across this poem "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost which was followed by a flash of memory of a faded forgotten crush that i had for the poet.

vinithra's photography. Woods, German Outland.

In early days when i used to read poetry, mostly cos' of the school coursework, very few poets connected to me heart with their emotions and expressions. 

Walt Whitman, Robert Browning, Milton, Coleridge had my respect, whereas Rabindranath Tagore is my Inspiration big-time.

Keats and Wordsworth are my favourites, especially Wordsworth as i connected well with him everytime I go through his flow of feelings, like the feel you get with your twin sibling. A Brotherly icon to look upto and follow.

And then, the One. William Shakespeare. I usually talk against Shakespeare, give a "no-big-deal" attitude over his sonnets, disagree with the personality analysis results of being similar to his mind. All this while, I would secretly read, admire, and dream about his words and verses, and I know for sure that I would fall for him if he is present in this lifetime.

Coming back to the point, Robert Frost. The only poem I had read of his was "The road not taken". Simple and beautiful. A small time crush. So when the memories rode by, I had a sudden intent to revive the lost love for the poem. 

However, Evolution is marked by Changes, changes the way you wanted to be into the way you actually are. 

It is more like, I used to love red color when I was a kid and now I prefer black and blue.

A Difference between a childhood crush and a true love.

I couldn't relive, more so unable to revive. But I did enjoy the read after years, a new sketch of the song.

All the same, Tagore remains my Inspiration, Wordsworth my all time favourite and Shakespeare, a love affair. :-)

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN

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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 marked 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