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Edward Lear or JRR Tolkien writing 'The Road Not Taken'?
Thu 22 May 2008, 10:38 AM
As a follow up on yesterday's post, imagine if Edward Lear or JRR Tolkien had written Robert Frost's iconic "The Road Not Taken". Are there other famous poets or poems you would like me to try?
As if written by Edward Lear, in the style of "The Owl and the Pussycat"
I went to the forest and what did I find As each of the trees I went 'round? I found lots of sticks, and an autumnal mix Of leaves upon the ground The leaves were yellow and made me feel mellow As I walked along the path. O lovely forest! O forest I love, What delightful appeal it hath, It hath, It hath! What delightful appeal it hath
Then 'long my side, I saw a divide Which split the path in two The way was divided and I hadn't decided Exactly what to do. I peered in the air with a petulant stare And tried to make some sense Of this new distraction which demanded action 'Twas no use straddlin' the fence The fence, The fence! 'Twas no use straddlin' the fence
One way was worn, the grass practically shorn As if by sheep that graze Yet I couldn't disguise to my unblinking eyes They both look well worn ways. So I dillied and dallied and twiddled my thumbs And thought about what to do Then I closed my eyes, picked a random prize And started off anew, Anew, Anew! I started off anew.
My indecision left no precision About the road I took. But the one that I left often leaves me bereft And wondering was I mistook? But I've travelled on, hither, thither and yon Now out of my terrible jam Which road I took when I didn't dare look Led me to where I am, I am, I am! Led me to where I am.
As if written by J. R. R. Tolkien, in the style of "Far over the misty mountains cold"
Far from my home, in forest glade To clearings deep within the shade I must make haste, by manner chaste To seek the path before me laid.
The leaves lie thick upon the road While long I stand where once I strode In manner proud my heart not cowed I face the choice which fate bestowed.
The path ahead is split in two And each with leaves of yellow hue Is covered deep in untouched sleep. It's long since each was touched by shoe.
One road I take from this day on The die once cast, the cards once drawn I'll not repeat, with weary feet Or pass again this way anon.
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