Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Robert Frost

I'm not really a big fan of poetry.  A lot of it is just lost on me, because I don't understand obscure metaphors right off the bat like everyone else seems to.  However, every now and then I fall across a poem I can appreciate, even come to love.  This is one of those poems.  One day I hope to have it memorized. :)

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

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.

Robert Frost

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