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.#
This poem captures a moment that is full of so much meaning
Such famous and thought provoking words...
ReplyDeleteThe 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.
Often we have too much to do to be able to linger and enjoy just the present moment.
I love this poem. thanks. Your picture is so fitting. Stay warm. Diane
ReplyDeleteNice to see you on here Diane . Today 80 mph winds all over UK Warm indoors knitting at mo and a good book in prospect tonight .Dogs fed and resting . love Gilly
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