Anapestic Trimeter: Onomatopoeia

"The Road Not Taken," Frost slow ball to my curb," ... by The Poet. If you instant your past past your eyes! (Uhh!) And the pause it had caused tis now gone, (Poof,) made of years, good, and tears, lost in sighs, (Sheesh,) brevity ... gravity, hint's implies. (ahh.) Well, that's that, who's at-bat, fate card's drawn. (hmm.) It can't be. Excuse me, sir your tea, (Oh--um,) Set it down. Half-a-crown? Sir! ... please go (Wooo!) Day's wages? (Whoa) Outrages! Gent there, see, (Ohh!) Looky there! (Wha?) Nighs me' chair! Good Golly? (Ohh?) I'll fill in (hehe) ... Good evenin', ready--No! (Ne'va!) Your manners, dear Rober--scene, public? (ahh) Pardon young man my tongue, close to mouth ... (marvy) brain, not close (coughs-clears throat) (ahem) teapot throes (UUU)... Republic? (eh-eh) The other, (ahh) not smarter -- nonpublic! (hehe) Manners Rob-bie. (Uh-uh) Nay, snob, he paws South! (Ah-ha) Flo (tell her the day she died)... Wall Street--(cuts him off--whips) Collapsed, Wheat -- never failed (smack thrown) They need food--place--what good ..., choice I made (sniffles-handkerchief drawn) Cold winter (gurgling-hands her teacup). Dear sister--You, I've trailed (long sigh). We both chose, God ... He shows (gasping) ... He unveiled (long drawn-out breath) Rob, he made (quick inhale) ... Ed conveyed, (quick-held breath) Rob, well-made. (long exhale draws a silent table of one)