Project 365 – Day 32 – “Whose Woods These Are . . .” January 31, 2011

 

I took a wondrous walk today in the sparkling, snow-covered woods around our farm, and as I entered the deeper woods, these words magically popped into my mind . . .

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.