Paint and Poetry

I decided to paint this morning with my son while my daughter was sleeping. It was interesting... and a little messy. He painted a "big purple mess" (I'll include a picture of it, but probably won't put it in the sale since it's by my boy and I'm the sentimental type who has to keep just about everything) and I painted a yellow wood with two roads diverging in it. One is more traveled than the other. My mom used to recite that poem when I was younger. I think it starts out "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood... I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." I think Robert Frost was the poet? Anyway... I always remember the little snippet and it popped into my head today as I sat down to paint. So... there you go.

I should go find it and put it here properly.... the beauty of the internet... instant gratification. :)

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, 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 feet 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 travelled by,
and that has made all the difference.

Thanks to Mom and Mr. Frost for today's painting idea.