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.
"Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost
YOU ARE READING
The Quiet After the Storm
FanfictionMy first Jelsa fanfic. With thanks and a great deal of gratitude to theeleanorrigby, who introduced me to this wild and wondrous world (and from whom I blatantly stole this storyline). Hope you enjoy my interpretation of their first meeting. And the...
