Stopping by Robert Frost
My family whom I thought I knew
It seems to me to be askew.
They may not notice my distress
Though signs of it reveal how true
The underlying feelings are
That cause me pain and only mar
My making sense of what divides
Despite the beauty near and far.
I try to give my thoughts some play
To see if any will allay
Those things that stubbornly resist
An open and inviting way
To probe the depth of family trust
To build again the bonds I must.
There is a distance I must go
There is a distance I must go.
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.
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