AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune--I myself am good fortune;
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Strong and content, I travel the open road.
The earth--that is sufficient;
I do not want the constellations any nearer;
......
I should like to rise and go
Where the golden apples grow;--
Where below another sky
Parrot islands anchored lie,
And, watched by cockatoos and goats,
Lonely Crusoes building boats;--
Where in sunshine reaching out
Eastern cities, miles about,
Are with mosque and minaret
Among sandy gardens set,
......
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorpes, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
......
I wish I could take a quiet corner in the heart of my baby's very
own world.
I know it has stars that talk to him, and a sky that stoops
down to his face to amuse him with its silly clouds and rainbows.
Those who make believe to be dumb, and look as if they never
could move, come creeping to his window with their stories and with
trays crowded with bright toys.
I wish I could travel by the road that crosses baby's mind,
and out beyond all bounds;
Where messengers run errands for no cause between the kingdoms
......
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
......
Bonnie Brown was in love with Charles, like black pearl clings to night,
So young and engaged to be married, like myriad stars, shining white.
They were active professionals, dwelling in a charming, bustling town;
As warbling charms orange noon, after pink mist clears, with no sound.
They had dreams of future and a family, like purple nights of fantasy;
And they were already making plans, like butterflies flitting frantically.
Fellowship of friends made fabulous Fridays, when they met after hours,
......
Is something calling again
From the distant hills outbound?
Is it a small voice within
Or something hidden without?
What awaits you down the road
Once you cross the valley bridge?
Should you find it and take hold
Will it satiate a wish?
......
Rare and stark is the isolated island
In its heart - its bipolar mood
And it stokes within the imagination
A fire - a want of pursuit.
Its knobby fingers reach out to a black sea -
Bringing roamers to some land's end;
Its fjords entice sojourners in for relief
After a frigid trip endured.
......
(Rondel)
Le Domaine du Colombier flaunts a charming castle villa
near Saint-Léger en Bray, a town whose charm
time has not yet erased.
Ancient walls flank historic houses
in colombage sides embraced;
narrow walking paths lace a trellised flowered cornucopia.
Enhancing the provincial community’s medieval aura
is a miniature cathedral, to sixteenth-century traced.
......
Suzie lived next door to Tom, and their families were the best of friends;
Like toffee clouds, chasing rainbows, once the blue storm wildly spends!
Tom and Susie enjoyed playing together, since they were the same age;
Like fine art, in the age of colors, when beautiful became all the rage!
Bike riding and hide and seek, roller skating and tag, they often played;
Like sunset orange, a jewel of the dusk, recalling daring plans we made.
Other friends told funny jokes at their fence; then came inside to frolic,
......