The Road Less Traveled 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
Friendship ~ Love Friendship is a quiet walk in the park with the one you trust
Love is when you feel like you are the only two around.
Friendship is when they gaze into your eyes and you know they care.
Love is when they gaze into your eyes and it warms your heart.
Friendship is being close even when you are far apart.
Love is when you can still feel their hand on your heart when they are not near.
Friendship is hoping that they experience the very best.
Love is when you bring them the very best.
Friendship occupies your mind.
Love occupies your soul.
Friendship is knowing that you will always try to be there when in need.
Love is when you will give up everything to be at their side.
Friendship is a warm smile in the winter.
Love is a warming touch that sends a pulse through your heart.
Love is a beautiful smile to which nothing compares:
A tender laugh, which opens your heart,
A single touch that melts away your fears,
A smell that reminds you of the tenderness of heaven,
A voice that reminds you of the innocence of youth.
Friendship can survive without love.
Love cannot live without friendship.
~ Author Unknown .
Copyright (©) 2010 - 2020
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By the bohemian, on March 7th, 2013%
I’ve come to realize that we are the choices we make in life. We are the end result of each and every decision that we make along the way. As each day unfolds before us, we are given the opportunity to write our own one act play or to design a masterpiece.
. . . → Read More: The Masterpiece ~
By the bohemian, on November 7th, 2012%
“Off the beaten path” can be a choice or a reflection; it can be a moment in which we decide to follow the crowd or to adventure off on our own and take a chance; take a chance on finding a gem in the rough or take a chance that we are able to acclimate ourselves and enjoy the prospect of only . . . → Read More: A Weekend In Paradise ~
By the bohemian, on October 24th, 2012%
Traveling from Wyoming to California on the back of a Goldwing, I reveled in the magnificence of the western skies; I marveled at the colors of the trees in Colorado as their leaves began to change from green into the brilliant reds and golds and oranges that signify the end of summer; I was entranced by the beauty of the red rocks in Arizona and the . . . → Read More: Journeys ~
By the bohemian, on October 3rd, 2012%
As the air turns cooler and the days get shorter, I have come to suspect that Autumn may be my favorite time of year.
This realization has come about slowly. It has come about after years of believing that Summer or maybe even Spring is my favorite season. This idea has crept into my thoughts from . . . → Read More: Days of Autumn ~
By the bohemian, on September 13th, 2012%
As another summer winds to a close I remember…
I remember Bavaria.
I remember the boat ride along the Rhine River with the wind blowing in my hair. I remember gazing out at the passing castles and reflecting on the beauty that was before me. I remember how much I wanted to . . . → Read More: I Remember ~
By the bohemian, on August 15th, 2012%
I wake up and look at the writing on the wall….
~ Live Simply ~
It is there to remind me ~ Never become so engrosed in material things that I lose sight of what makes my life a true blessing.
I am reminded ~ Blessings come in . . . → Read More: Simple Things ~
By the bohemian, on June 18th, 2012%
The beautiful Colorado landscape is being scarred by a raging wildfire that is engulfing thousands of acres and destroying hundreds of homes. In the midst of it all is Poudre Canyon, a narrow canyon approximately 40 miles long. In my opinion, this stretch of land, on Colorado Hwy. 14 along the Poudre River, is one . . . → Read More: Poudre Canyon, Colorado ~
By the bohemian, on May 29th, 2012%
It is a cloudy, rainy day in Southern California and though it never rains in California, today it is coming down as though it may never stop.
As the rain gently falls I find myself listening to the raindrops and remembering the sound of the rain tapping out melodies on an old . . . → Read More: In Memory Of ~
By the bohemian, on February 12th, 2012%
It seems as though a lot of us, the hopeful romantics of the world, spend our lives searching for that special person who can compliment us. We have a dream, whether real or not, who’s to say, but we believe and by believing we strengthen our resolve to find this individual. We keep searching for this . . . → Read More: Logic -vs- Romance
By the bohemian, on January 16th, 2012%
You’ll Always Come Back When There’s Sand In Your Shoes
~ Old Florida Folklore
In the years following graduation from high school, I spent a few years in time, though a lifetime in memories, in a small town along the Gulf Coast, on the panhandle of Florida. It was a time . . . → Read More: Sand In My Shoes ~
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Posts InfoFeaturing Top 20/58 of Info Browse MusiciansFeaturing Top 10/14 of Musicians Browse PoemsFeaturing Top 10/19 of Poems Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116 Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.
But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.
But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.
~ Maya Angelou
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