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.
Frost was one of the first poets I fell in love with. I mean Frost has the ability to create simple poems that can go as deep as you’d like them to. In honor of our snow storm, I had to share this one. It’s a great reminder to take a pause and appreciate what’s around you but don’t forget to keep moving forward.
Jayne.press 