Stopping By Woods on a Snowy EveningAny person engaged in a long project will sympathize with Frost's message. Along with Danielle Steel's explanation of how she turns out so many books -- "there are no miracles, only discipline" -- it's a strong kick in the pants to get moving on my writing.
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.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Promises to keep
I'm not a poet though some millions of years ago I won a $0.25 paperback edition of Guys and Dolls for a loony haiku I wrote. Nevertheless I appreciate good poetry, as I admire quality writing of any kind. One of my favorite poems is this classic: