Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

-- Robert Frost

I've always been a fan of Frost's work, and it's always a huge pleasure to discover a new poem. It's something to constantly strive for - something so meaningful that it retains its power over 80 years later.

Work will come in time. I doubt that anyone is actually waiting, but I'll post something when I'm at least halfway satisfied with it. Speaking of which, I must admit that my talent is raw, if it exists at all. I hope to shape it eventually, but my submissions will be very rare for now.