Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

[farkas]

Hi

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.

Robert Frost


I think this superb poem, one that I think most every one knows, represents a sentiment that is universal in its message.
One of my favorites

Farkas1

[norma]

I know this poem Farkas, it's not one of my favourites, but very enjoyable. It seems to conjure up an ambiance which is beyond my poetic capabilites, but for which I always strive. Robert Frost was made known to me many years ago by Simon and Garfunkle. They wrote a song called "The Dangling Converstation," which included a reference to Robert Frost.
I am leaving a simple child's poem here for you all to read. The Impressionist competition brought it to mind, especially John's entry. It is a poem I loved as a child.

The Poppies in the Garden. By Ffrida Wolfe.

They poppies in the garden, they all wear frocks of silk,
some are purple, some are pink, and others white as milk.
Light, light, for dancing in, for dancing when the breeze
plays a little two-step for the blossoms and the bees.
Fine, fine for dancing in, all frilly at the hem,
Oh, when I watch the poppies dance I long to dance like them!

The poppies in the garden have let their silk frocks fall
all about the border paths, but where are they at all?
Here a frill and there a flounce, a rag of silky red,
but not a poppy-girl is left - I think they've gone to bed.
Gone to bed and gone to sleep, and weary they must be,
for each has left her box of dreams upon the stem for me.

[john]

Two great poems!! I have never seen either, in fact i have never read any "serious" poetry. But i have to say thanks Farkas and Norma for posting them. Roald Dahl is one of my favourite writers and he has done some poetry in the style i like. Here's one which fits in with the woods and the reds!


From Revolting Rhymes

The Three Little Pigs
by Roald Dahl

The animal I really dig
Above all others is the pig.
Pigs are noble. Pigs are clever,
Pigs are courteous. However,
Now and then, to break this rule,
One meets a pig who is a fool.
What, for example, would you say
If strolling through the woods one day,
Right there in front of you, you saw
A pig who'd built his house of STRAW?
The Wolf who saw it licked his lips,
And said, 'That pig has had his chips.'

'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff
'And I'll blow your house in!'

The little pig began to pray,
But Wolfie blew his house away.
He shouted, 'Bacon, pork and ham!
'Oh, what a lucky Wolf I am!'
And though he ate the pig quite fast,
He carefully kept the tail till last.
Wolf wandered on, a trifle bloated.
Surprise, surprise, for soon he noted
Another little house for pigs,
And this one had been built of TWIGS!

'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on mychinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff
'And I'll blow your house in!'

The Wolf said, 'Okay, here we go!'
He then began to blow and blow.
The little pig began to squeal.
He cried, 'Oh Wolf, you've had one meal!
'Why can't we talk and make a deal?'
The Wolf replied, 'Not on your nelly!'
And soon the pig was in his belly.
'Two juicy little pigs!' Wolf cried,
'But still I am not satisfied!
'I know full well my Tummy's bulging,
'But oh, how I adore indulging.'
So creeping quietly as a mouse,
The Wolf approached another house,
A house which also had inside
A little piggy trying to hide.
But this one, Piggy Number Three,
Was bright and brainy as could be.
No straw for him, no twigs or sticks.
This pig had built his house of BRICKS.
'You'll not get me!' the Piggy cried.
'I'll blow you down!' the Wolf replied.
'You'll need,' Pig said, 'a lot of puff,
'And I don't think you've got enough.'
Wolf huffed and puffed and blew and blew.
The house stayed up as good as new.
'If I can't blow it down,' Wolf said,
'I'll have to blow it up instead.
'I'll come back in the dead of night
'And blow it up with dynamite!'
Pig cried, 'You brute! I might have known!'
Then, picking up the telephone,
He dialled as quickly as he could
The number of Red Riding Hood.
'Hello,' she said. 'Who's speaking? Who?
'Oh, hello Piggy, how d'you do?'
Pig cried, 'I need your help, Miss Hood!
'Oh help me, please! D'you think you could?'
'I'll try, of course,' Miss Hood replied.
'What's on your mind?' ... 'A Wolf!' Pig cried.
'I know you've dealt with wolves before,
'And now I've got one at my door!'
'My darling Pig,' she said, 'my sweet,
'That's something really up my street.
'I've just begun to wash my hair.
'But when it's dry, I'll be right there.'
A short while later, through the wood,
Came striding brave Miss Riding Hood.
The Wolf stood there, his eyes ablaze
And yellowish, like mayonnaise.
His teeth were sharp, his gums were raw,
And spit was dripping from his jaw.
Once more the maiden's eyelid flickers.
She draws the pistol from her knickers.
Once more, she hits the vital spot,
And kills him with a single shot.
Pig, peeping through the window, stood
And yelled, 'Well done, Miss Riding Hood!'

Ah, Piglet, you must never trust
Young ladies from the upper crust.
For now, Miss Riding Hood, one notes,
Not only has two wolf-skin coats,
But when she goes from place to place,
She has a PIGSKIN TRAVELLING CASE.

[farkas]

Hi John

LOL.

From frying pan into the fire.

Farkas1 ;D

[kuranui]

These are all new to me, but I loved them all. However, I have to say that my favourite was the Piggy one. Most amusing.

[norma]

I never read that piggy one before John. Absolutely brilliant.