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.
Hello all! This poem was suggested to me by a friend (credit goes to Matt, for all of you UPSers), and it
is just the right poem for this week. It feels like friends, family, woods, snow, love, comfort, work, and
sleep. Well, I hope that this break is going well for all of you and happy