Robert Frost

(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

A Peck of Gold - Poem by Robert Frost

Dust always blowing about the town,
Except when sea-fog laid it down,
And I was one of the children told
Some of the blowing dust was gold.

All the dust the wind blew high
Appeared like god in the sunset sky,
But I was one of the children told
Some of the dust was really gold.

Such was life in the Golden Gate:
Gold dusted all we drank and ate,
And I was one of the children told,
'We all must eat our peck of gold.'


Comments about A Peck of Gold by Robert Frost

  • Anne Yun (5/25/2016 4:46:00 AM)


    it seems like everthing can be the beauty of life in a poet's eyes. (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Subhas Chandra Chakra (4/5/2016 11:08:00 PM)


    wow, what a nice little poem!
    Why did I read it so late in my life?
    Why not when I was in my school days? ?
    Thanks dear poet.
    (Report) Reply

  • (2/28/2016 4:09:00 PM)


    A poem about making light of dire conditions. (Report) Reply

  • (2/15/2016 10:30:00 AM)


    ............a wonderful poem with such amazing lines ★ All the dust the wind blew high
    Appeared like god in the sunset sky,
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 14, 2016



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