[SAMWolf]

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.

Robert Frost

[NicknamedBob]

Robert Frost?
One of my references to Robert Frost, (even though my wife doesn't seem to like his work...)

A Cool Draught

The brook flows full, with clarity, cool pleasure, and with haste,
The flowing stream’s a resource, with a gentle, pleasant taste.
Too fast for growing tepid, too slow for turbulence,
One wonders what the brook receives, in its just recompense.

If raindrops are a blessing, from a distant warming sun,
This brook is full from blessings, and not for what it’s done.
It just receives the current thoughts, and passes them on through,
And you perceive the breadth of it, and comment on the view.

The brook is lovely, dark and deep, like woods within the frost,
But it won’t tell, for much of it is tears that have been lost.
Some say it only babbles, there’s little meaning here,
But you can hear it if you have the proper kind of ear.

The ear that hears a heart sound in the gurgle and the splash,
As thoughts careening forward shove each other in their dash.
The meaning of the sounds you hear is that all life is good,
But most of this deep message falls on ears of only wood.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . April 13, 2004

[Soaring Feather]

Sam, wonderful Frost today, a classic for sure.

Hope all is going well for you.

Thanks for the good tunes.