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
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
Have a great day dear friends!
Love,
tj
Sweet poem
ReplyDeleteHave a lovely day dear xxx
Thank you for sharing that. Makes me think of my horses.
ReplyDeleteOne of my very favorite poems. Makes me feel all warm inside.
ReplyDeleteThank you for posting.
Blessings
~a
BEEEEUTIFUL share, TJ!
ReplyDeleteThe photo is so warm and dreamy!
And do you know what? I totally remember reading this Robert Frost poem while in high school. It was so lovely to read it again.
Hope you had a warm and cozy day!
(((( You ))))
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