Winter Poem by Robert Frost

I was glancing through my Robert Frost book the other night and came across this poem which seemed appropriate for a good winter-time post.  It’s called Good Hours:

I had for my winter evening walk–
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.

And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.

Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o-clock of a winter eve.

Illustrated Poetry Blog

Poetry Blog is the simple yet accurate name of a wonderful little blog I discovered today which features classic poems combined with pictures which compliment and add to the experience of the poem.  What a great concept.  Here are a couple of my favorite entries:

Poem by Robert Lee Frost, Once by the Pacific, which begins:

The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before…

Poem by Sara Teasdale, I Am Not Yours, which begins:

I am not yours, not lost in you, 
Not lost, although I long to be 
Lost as a candle lit at noon, 
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

Unfortunately, it looks like whoever was writing the blog both started and stopped in October of 2005, but there are a few pages of entries there, and it’s well worth reading through.