Poetry Sunday

It has been so beastly hot and humid here in NoVa for the last few weeks that I thought a poem about snow might be nice. Of course, come winter we may be looking for poems about warm summer days, but what the heck. Here's a classic poem for this baking hot Sunday ...

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.

Crank up the AC and you'll sleep better on those terribly hot summer nights.

Have a good day and enjoy the rest of your weekend. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo