OT: Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

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OT: 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.


http://oi54.tinypic.com/9jf0ih.jpg

Andy
 
On 1/27/2011 1:07 PM, Andy wrote:

Andy, ya think a little credit to Robert Frost is in order?

BTW, that photo was pornographic

--
Janet Wilder
Way-the-heck-south Texas
Spelling doesn't count. Cooking does.
 
On Jan 27, 2:07?pm, Andy wrote:

I grew up in Amherst Mass where Frost was a frequent visitor. He spoke
to our English Class, and when he recites a poem he would say "I'm
going to say a poem for You.' His hair was always askew, and he wore
weird canvas shoes.
It was a real treat each time I way him.

I loved his 'I stepped on the toe of an unemployed hoe
It dealt me a blow. How strange that the first
hoe I step on turns into a weapon."
 
Nan wrote:

-snip-

I'm jealous. he has always been my favorite poet. My HS lit
teacher and I got into heated arguments about what his poetry 'meant'.
'Birches' was one I always swore was *just* about birch trees and
young boys-- I guess I can see her points, now.



His screenplay "A Masque of Reason" is one of my favorites- Job & his
wife discussing with God why he is making their lives so hard.

Jim
 
On Thu, 27 Jan 2011 13:07:07 -0600, Andy wrote:

As a teenager, I was lucky enough to hear Robert Frost read this poem
out loud, as well as others. It was memorable.

aloha,
Cea
(who won't look at the photo) as the image of Robert Frost sitting in
a large chair with his book in hand, was exquisite and burned into my
memory.
 
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