Tag Archives: The Road Not Taken: A Selection of Robert Frost’s Poems

From the Archives: “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood”

To celebrate the one year anniversary of my blog, I’m publishing select posts throughout the year under the title “From the Archives” for those who may have missed them the first time around.

The second post I published has received more views than any other post on my blog. As you can see, the writing is nothing special. The attraction is in the title which starts with the words of a popular poem. If you want to attract readers to your blog, then give your posts popular titles. Make it a play on a favorite poem (like this one), movie, song, book, etc. and watch the traffic to your blog escalate.

Here is the original post for “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood”…and I-I took the safer one, until now.:

Years ago I came to a fork in the road and pondered which career path I should take. The one to the left was well-traveled. In fact, it was freshly paved and lined with curbs. Street lights that turned on at dusk dotted the roadside. There was even the occasional warning sign of what to expect ahead: a curve here, a dip in the road there. It was safe and well, a little boring.

The road to the right gave me a different feeling. It was not paved nor well-traveled. The surrounding vegetation threatened to overtake it. There were no curbs to keep me from straying off course and no streetlights illuminating the path. There was no sign of what may lie ahead. It was a little unsafe, even scary, but it peaked my interest.

Which one did I take?

I merged in with the rest of the traffic and took the safer route. I often wondered where the other road would have taken me. I plodded along “easy street” for years until I had the courage to make a U-turn and head back to the fork in the road.

Now I’m headed down the other path. It is still just as wild as it was all those years ago. It has not changed… but I have.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both13_roads_diverged_in_a_yellow_wood[1]
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, 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
Some 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.

Pets Have a Way of Wiggling Into Your Heart

Today marks the 9th anniversary of the death of our beloved Scout.me and scout

I remember the day my husband brought him home. I awoke to the jingling of a bell. My husband stood at my bedside with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He slapped his thigh and said, “C’mon boy.”

That was the moment Scout walked, or rather lumbered, into my life. His massive paws were too big for his body and made him a little clumsy. The moment that adorable brindle boxer puppy with floppy ears and big brown eyes looked up into my eyes I was smitten.

“Happy birthday Baby,” my husband said.

“Oh my God! He’s adorable! What should we call him?”

“I’ve always liked the name Scout.”

scoutScout eventually grew into those monstrous paws and tipped the scales at eighty-five pounds of solid muscle. With his bulk and brindle markings he was sometimes mistaken for a pit bull and people would shrink back in fear. I have to admit there were times when I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sight of him too. He had this annoying habit of pawing at my bedside in the middle of the night. Still groggy from sleep I’d open my eyes to see “The Batman” silhouetted against the nightlight.

After recovering from a mini heart attack, I’d realize it was just my big goofy dog asking to go outside to do his business.

He certainly could seem menacing from afar but one look into those big brown eyes and there was no mistaking the sweet soul inside.  When asked if he’d attack we’d just laugh and say, “Oh yeah, he’s a ferocious guard dog alright.  If anything, he’ll just lick you to death!”

Scout was unaware of his mammoth size. He thought he was a lap dog. He often crawled in my lap, or at least tried to, especially when I was getting ready for work in the morning. Putting on makeup with a beast of a dog trying to cuddle with you and lick your face was quite a challenge.

I’ll never forget Scout’s first experience with the lake. My husband tried to coax Scout to get in the water with him but he just looked on from the shore, too scared to venture in. Scout paced back and forth as my husband waded deeper into the water. Scout couldn’t be persuaded to get in the water so my husband went under to see what he would do. Scout immediately jumped in, dismissing his fears, and swam to “save” his buddy.

One afternoon my husband was sitting next to Scout, repeatedly blowing in his face. Each time Scout glared at my husband as if to warn him to stop. But my husband loves to pick so he kept at it. Scout finally had enough. The next time he turned to my husband he opened his mouth and placed his massive jaws over my husband’s face. Of course he didn’t bite down but he was sending a very clear message. “Look buddy, I’ve had enough. I love you so there’s no way I would ever hurt you, but don’t tempt me.”

If you believe a dog doesn’t have personality, well then you’ve never loved one. Scout was the manifestation of Scooby Doo, just as goofy and lovable. It was as if he jumped out of the TV screen and wiggled his way into our hearts. In fact, he turned in circles until he found just the right spot, as all dogs do, and nestled there forever.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood”, and I – I took the safer one, until now.

Years ago I came to a fork in the road and pondered which career path I should take. The one to the left was well-traveled. In fact, it was freshly paved and lined with curbs. Street lights that turned on at dusk dotted the roadside. There was even the occasional warning sign of what to expect ahead: a curve here, a dip in the road there. It was safe and well, a little boring.

The road to the right gave me a different feeling. It was not paved nor well-traveled. The surrounding vegetation threatened to overtake it. There were no curbs to keep me from straying off course and no streetlights illuminating the path. There was no sign of what may lie ahead. It was a little unsafe, even scary, but it peaked my interest.

Which one did I take?

I merged in with the rest of the traffic and took the safer route. I often wondered where the other road would have taken me. I plodded along “easy street” for years until I had the courage to make a U-turn and head back to the fork in the road.

Now I’m headed down the other path. It is still just as wild as it was all those years ago. It has not changed… but I have.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both13_roads_diverged_in_a_yellow_wood[1]
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, 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
Some 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.