April 17, 2009
Sometimes you gotta stop and look at all the beauty we’re lucky to see.  Here’s a dope poem I just remembered..
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
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.

Sometimes you gotta stop and look at all the beauty we’re lucky to see.  Here’s a dope poem I just remembered..

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

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.