Most adults
cringe when the weatherman predicts snow. I can understand this. Driving on icy
roads is no fun. But nature enthralls me as I watch the snow fall outside my living room window.
Fat snowflakes cover the landscape with a glistening white blanket. Soon, children’s
laughter will fill the air. Carrot-nosed snowmen will appear. Sledding enjoyed.
It’s a magical winter scene, just right for curling up on the sofa with my
favorite book of poems.
So pour yourself a cup of hot chocolate or
even better a warm, spicy toddy, snuggle up with your most comfy blanket, and
enjoy the vivid imagination of poet Robert Frost.
Stopping by the 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.
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
