A Poem To Share

When I was in grade school, probably the 6th or 7th grade, Robert Frost visited our teacher in our class room. I remember him as a white haired older man. I have always liked this poem that he wrote. It makes it more special because I have met him.


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.

poem by Robert Frost