Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

[armonico_tribut]

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.

Comments

the verses are as frosty as ever, but

[copemate]

you outta unify your poetry tags - you should either write "robert frost" or "r. frost" all the time.