I ponder the axle of my truck
Invisible to the naked eye
In depths of mud and water stuck
And wait for the recovery truck
Trying valiantly not to cry
I'll tell the driver, by and by
Sometime age and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood and I
Took the one less gravelled, sigh
That's what made the bloody difference
Really enjoyed this. Do you have gravel in the truck? While you're waiting. Just a thought. I feel your despair, roads these days!
Hello Martin, to make a mistake and choose the wrong road signifies many things to many people but your facts though realistic and lain in such perfect wording makes me glad that you had a moment to conjure up this piece... I'm sorry for your trauma yet glad your muse led you up this road. Bravo. Karen
A very humorous read Martin - presume you were taking instruction from your sat nav! !
Ah that second verse- the less gravelled road will always get you, by and by (as will the double L in certain words unaccountably not held fast by the spelling rules from olde, hehe) ..Love that last line, made me smile like a cat from Cheshire (hmm, is there a synonym poem lurking somewhere about here... ;)
A really fantastic poem, love the fun edge you put into some of your poems. A great write.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Terrific funny stuff. Postmodern, foreshore! 'Shame old Frosty's not here to read this. Probably delayed with engine trouble after stopping by woods on a snowy evening, you know how he is?