To: snippy_about_it
Well thank you snippy, but without poets there is no thread.
To: snippy_about_it; Colonel_Flagg; SAMWolf; radu; Darksheare; Trikebuilder; sleeper-has-awakened; ...
![](http://images4.fotki.com/v50/photos/9/99815/553910/CI37-vi.jpg)
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
by Robert Lee 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's 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.
FreeRepublic.com is powered by software copyright 2000-2008 John Robinson