As snow is falling over much of the United States and we face the beginning of another work week, I thought I would leave you with one of my favorite poems, the ever-popular “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.
I suppose everyone draws his own meaning from poetry; I find the imagery to be so powerful and he conveys such emotion that this is one of the few (or only) poems I have memorized
Everyone should memorize at least one poem.