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A PAUSE FOR SNOW (inspired writes contest)

STOPPING BY THE WOODS ON A SNOWY EVE 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.

A PAUSE FOR SNOW
Carefully I drive down the road
on this mid winter eve
snow adds to my worrys' load
as flakes float through the storm clouds' sieve.

World turns dark as snow increases
just as the way leaves town behind
so that my progress almost ceases.
Driving now fills up my mind.

Woods then crowd both the road sides
and flakes increase in volume and size.
Field of vision abruptly subsides.
To continue now would be unwise.

So I carefully pull off the road
to out wait this heavy snowfall
here where pine boughs all are bowed
on an eve when even owls don't call.

In the storm these woods go on and on
and they're almost dark now in this storm.
I've been driving since near dawn
as has become the near norm.

Peace strangely fills once jumbled mind.
Worry like snow flakes fall away
leaving tensions far far behind
on this the eve of Christmas day.

Before long the blizzard eases
and the forest can clearly be seen.
The cold wind stops and the scene freezes
every image sharp and keen.

I shake my head , crank up my truck.
Though I yearn to stay here for a while
schedule forbids me such luck
for I've yet to drive the day's last mile.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
I actually have an older poem I'd already written after being inspired by this one but I assume the judge wants something new.
Editing stage: 

Comments

I am used to your rhymes and they read well, but here, this juxtaposition left me with the expectation of metered verse. It took a few reads to get the first out of my head and re-accustom myself to your rhythm.

T

The most powerful reaction
of mind on mind
is transference of sight

This is just something I dashed off for the contest and I expect to slowly work on the meter over time. I actually have written a much better poem inspired by the Frost work but figured the judge wanted a new write

author comment

enamours me
I may compose similarly
but not for june sytan

We can All hope to write at least a poem or two as well as Frost did

author comment

Was there any? For a Blank Verse poem.

Hommies

Since I am not eligible to win contests I don't take as much care with them as I should but I shouldn't be that way. I should ALWAYS write to the best of my abilities. I'm gonna check this out over the next few days and see what I can do with it.......stan

author comment

I want to wash my hands and face with snow :) wonderful interpretation of a winter blizzard. All the feels that go into traveling in such conditions. I enjoyed the imagery and flow.

Keep Writing,
Carrie

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

Always good to have you drop by for a spell. You know, you'd think a guy from the deep south like me would concentrate more on warm weather poetry..........wonder why I do the opposite?

author comment

Mysterious about the cold and snow. I myself would like to only have to write about it, maybe some day.

Keep Writing,
Carrie

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

perhaps it's the mystery of what is hidden beneath the surface. And the surface can be either that of the snow or ourselves

author comment
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