Friday, April 20, 2018

______________________________ POEM ______________________________

 
  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.

4 comments:

Paul Mullings said...

An interesting muse indeed....are you sure the poets name wasn’t Jack?..;)

Alden Smith said...

Yes indeed, it could have well been Jack - he's been known to write a bit of frosty, to the point poetry from time to time.

Dan Gurney said...

I love this poem, especially its intricate rhyme scheme, which deftly connects the stanzas. It’s accomplished seemingly effortlessly, but I am sure it wasn’t as easy to write as it is to memorize.

Alden Smith said...

Dan, it's a great poem. Perhaps his poem "The Road Less Taken" aka 'The path less travelled' is Robert Frosts most well known poem.

His gift is to combine two universals - the natural world as metaphors for aspects of the human condition. His poems are full of insight and wisdom.