As it were…

For many years now this has been my favorite poem, 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.

When I was a young man our house was deep in the forest. The road was a 2-track, and the trees always leaned over the road to make a tunnel, whether with leaves in the summer or snow in the winter.

Church was about 2 miles away, and it wasn’t uncommon for me to either walk or ride my bike home at night, regardless of time of year.

I well remember walks down that road with the snow piled on either side, stretching into the forest. On moonlight nights the snow would reflect the moon so that it seemed like daylight, except the snow also sparkled like diamonds. Other nights were so dark I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, and I had to look up to see the faint dim opening of the trees over the road to know where the road was.

Standing alone in a deep forest filled with snow is an experience everyone should try.

Rhyming

For all that I’ve loved this poem for years, only in the last few weeks did I notice how cool the rhyming is. I thought it was simply choice that the third line of every verse doesn’t rhyme with the rest of the verse.

Then I noticed that it always rhymes with 1, 2, and 4 of the FOLLOWING verse.

That’s classy poetry.