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“The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost. Recited by myself. Just one of those days…

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October 23, 2025 at 5:04 AM
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"Richard Cory," a poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson

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July 15, 2025 at 11:15 PM
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15 Famous Poems About Rain You Must Not Miss
Rain has long been a powerful metaphor in poetry, symbolizing a wide range of emotions from melancholy and introspection to renewal and hope.
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www.nevermorepoem.com/archives/6183
15 Famous Poems About Rain You Must Not Miss - Nevermorepoem.com
Rain has long been a powerful metaphor in poetry, symbolizing a wide range of emotions from melancholy and introspection to renewal and hope. The rhythmic
www.nevermorepoem.com
April 14, 2026 at 9:27 AM
fluxofmind.ca
Poetry feeds the soul when you find specific ones that speak to you. Here are some of my favourites!
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A poem written in a dotted journal with doodles. The ink is black with purple shadow in there. The title and doodles of stars and the poem is written in primarily black with some highlighted words in the purple and the author's name at the bottom is written in purple. The text reads as follows: The Lights of London Evenfall, so slow on hills, hath shot far down into the valley's cold extreme. untimely midnight, spire and roof and stream, like fleeing specters, shudder and are not. the Hampstead hollies, from their Sylvan plot, yet cloudless, lean in to watch as in a dream. From chaos climb, with many a sudden gleam. London, one moment fallen and forgot. her booths begin to flare and gasses, bright prick door and window, all her streets obscure. sparkle and swarm with nothing true, nor sure. full as a marsh of mist and winking light, heaven thickens over, heaven that cannot cure her tear by day, her fevered smile by night. by Louise Imogen Guiney This is a poem written in a zig zag form in small lettering in a dotted notebook. The coiled binding is visible on the left. The ink is all black, the title is on a doodled banner, and the author's name at the bottom is written in large, zig-zaggy font. The text reads: 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 A poem written out in my dotted, spiral-bound journal, with the coils visible on the left and the grey, red, orange, and brown markers I used to write it out framing the rest. The title is in grey with shadows from the other three colours. A very simple doodle in grey of a snowy forest at night is beside the title. The poem's four verses are each written in one of the colours, and are in varying places along the horizontal plane for a bit of a wavy effect. The author's name at the bottom is in grey. The text reads: Stopping by woods on a snowy evening Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods, fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse, near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sounds the sweep Of easy wind and downy, flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. by Robert Frost
July 6, 2025 at 9:00 PM