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Tuesday, 12 August 2014

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Make that Robin Williams...........
Your story doesn't make sense when you've got the wrong bloke!!

Cringing apologies, m'lady!

;However, what I do think when I hear that the likes of Robin Williams, after a lifetime, apparently, of booze and drug abuse has topped himself, is of those people I know personally who suffer similarly but who have the guts and determination to fight back, to keep going, to stay the course, if not for their own sake then for the sake of the people who love them.'

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

BY ROBERT FROST

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 sound’s 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.

Oddly enough, Louise, although I don't know you except via the internet, you were one of the gutsy people I had in mind. That is a marvellous poem, such apparently simple words but hiding ... well, what? The last two repetitive lines, I think, are deeply moving and evocative of ... well, what exactly? ... I'm not sure and I guess they will mean different things to different people as they struggle onwards in differing circumstances. Whatever, they made me blink rather rapidly and swallow hard. Thanks for the poem.

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