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.
This beautiful poem comes to mind as I look outside my kitchen window tonight to watch silent snow falling on all the world around me...It is beautiful and so very peaceful.
