Poem
"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.
Comments
View All Comments
You have a bunch of HIM things
biggrin
Oh Oh! What happen?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~THIS MUCH~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
and how's school and workk?
how you been?
long time no talk! D: