A Short Frostian Entry

Okay, so I've been busy lately. I apologize for the lack of updates, as well as the lacking length of this update. Today I am featuring a poem most of you have read, probably more than once. I don't care, read it again:

~~~~~~~

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.

By Robert Frost

~~~~~~~

I'm not a fan of Robert Frost, but this poem is absolutely wonderful, a divine work of art. The rhyme scheme is pulled off without forcing anything, and the language is simple and delicate. I'm going to stop describing it because merely reading it renders most of my commentary useless; its greatness is evident, wouldn't you say?

~LAEvanesce