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Wednesday, November 16, 2005

The First Snow of the Year

It snowed for the first time of the season today. I love snow, but seeing as I have to shovel driveways in the morning, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it.

Nevertheless, in honor of the occasion, I'm going to treat you to my favorite winter poem.

Readers, feel free to post any winter poems or quotes you like in the comments!

Stopping By the 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


Blogger Anna said...

BBBbbbrrrrrr! That's my first response to snow! ;)

November 17, 2005 7:22 AM  
Anonymous Christine Lamech said...

Fresh Snowfall...

A fresh snowfall in winter
Always brings my heart delight
When I waken in the morning
To a wonderland of white

No pathway leading here or there
To mark the hurried pace,
Just fragile etchings in the snow
That wayward branches trace.

How cozy rests each little home
Knee-deep in drifts of snow;
Smoke curling up from chimneys
Adds to the friendly glow.

Fir trees don a regal look
In lavish ermine wrap;
Lampposts too, wear winter's best
White muffler and top hat.

Our little town so peaceful is
A wonderland of white,
A picture postcard sent from God
To bring our hearts delight.

~ By Kay Hoffman ~

November 17, 2005 4:45 PM  
Blogger praisesforhim said...

Robert Frost is probably my favorite poet- good choice. I'm so glad we finally got some snow- I've been waiting for awhile.

"Getting an inch of snow is like winning ten cents in the lottery." -unknown

"There is nothing in the world more beautiful than the forest clothed to its very hollows in snow. It is the still ecstasy of nature, wherein every spray, every blade of grass, every sprire of reed, every intricacy of twig, is clad with radiance." -William Sharp

November 17, 2005 7:49 PM  

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