NO TURNING BACK

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.

***
It's funny how I used to detest them so bad (prob because of the exams) yet now, I'm turning to them for my source of comfort; it's therapeutic, really.
Yea I kinda feel like falling into a deep slumber.
p.s. It's a wonder what Frost can do.