Memories

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening - 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’s 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.

I fell in love with this poem when I was in the 6th std...actually I fell in love with a lot of poems at that time, but this one's a very special one. Makes you imagine the sharp smell of pine needles, the squish and slush of snow under your feet, the slow whoo whoo sound of the wind - seeping through your clothes. That's the magic of words. A whole new world to explore and live in! Robert Frost is the baap of all writings.