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1.      Mays, Kelly J. “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening By Robert Frost”. The Norton Introduction to Literature. 12th ed.,NewYork,NY,W.W. Norton & Company, 2017. ,(p.1344)

2.      Frost, Robert. “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost.” Poetry Foundation, Poetry Foundation, www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42891/stopping-by-woods-on-a-snowy-evening.

3.      Lyman, Michael K. “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening.” Magnumarts.blogspot.com, Magnum Arts, 2 Oct. 2012, magnumarts.blogspot.com/2012/10/stopping-by-woods-on-snowy-evening.html.

4.      belarafon. "What are the meter and rhyme scheme of "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening?"" eNotes, 11 Sep. 2012, https://www.enotes.com/homework-help/stopping-by-woods-snowy-evening-by-robert-frost-358979.

5.      William Delaney. "What are the meter and rhyme scheme of "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening?"" eNotes, 21 Apr. 2014, https://www.enotes.com/homework-help/stopping-by-woods-snowy-evening-by-robert-frost-358979.

6.      O'Connor, M. “The Poem: foot and meter (Accented syllables in green).” Millikin.edu, Feb. 1999, faculty.millikin.edu/~moconner/crow/basics/frost2.html.

7.      Grubin, David. Poetry Everywhere. Archive Films Getty Images, Henry Holt and Company,LLC, www.youtube.com/watch?v=hfOxdZfo0gs.

8.      White, Brian . “Star Night: Moon Light Over Water.” Fineartamerica.com, fineartamerica.com/featured/star-night-brian-white.html.

9.      LeRevenant. “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.” DeviantArt, 2016, lerevenant.deviantart.com/art/Stopping-by-Woods-on-a-Snowy-Evening-596667445.

10.  “John Crittenden - Painter, photographer and print maker.” John Crittenden - Painter, photographer and print maker, johncrittenden.com/.

11.  Goodaboom, Miki de. “A Man and His Horse in Germany.” Mikidegoodaboom.com, www.mikidegoodaboom.com/a-man-and-his-horse/.

12.  Google Search, Google, www.google.com/search?newwindow=1&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS735US735&ei=hA0JWoj6Gaz4jwS0lrUY&q=downy%2Bdefinition&oq=downy%2Bdefinition&gs_l=psy-ab.3..0i67k1j0i7i30k1l9.61303.66933.0.67352.10.9.0.0.0.0.182.958.2j6.8.0....0...1.1.64.psy-ab..3.7.838...0j0i131k1j0i20i263k1.0.asq7W3guBkk.

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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 horse disturbs the natural peace, questioning his masters intentions.

He will not see me stopping here ...
The darkest evening of the year.

The owner of these woods, cannot see him there due to both distance and visibility as it is very dark outside, and the owner lives miles away.

To ask if there is some mistake...
But I have promises to keep,

This is deeper than the horse asking the speaker, why? More does the speaker regret his life decisions, maybe, but he is true to his words and carries on towards his goal, his destination.

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I see a man, walking alongside his horse, a clidestail, wearing handmy down bridle, lead and saddle. A flannel coat, black and red , warming the exhausted animal. Satchels and bags sway , filled with a few bullets, an empty cantene, flint and $25.
The man standing at five foot ten inches, fit for his stature and has a heaping wool filled jean coat, snug to him as he is layered with a scarf, and another undercoat. His trouser two times bigger than his stature , insulating his legs from the cold temperatures, decreasing to twenty degrees in this December eve. He has a trapper hat, allowing him to hear the snow as it is untied. He comes up on the woods, sprinkles of trees to a dense area from his former tracks of open fields. He was afraid of coyote and wolves in the fields, but feels a serenity , peace fall over him in these dense woods. He feels he is intruding, but he is already friends with the owner of the property as he leaves his tracks. He is sure he does not mind, as he intended to excuse himself and ask for his permission to pass through his land.
The icicles glisten on the pines, without moonlight , the man wonders how he can see them. The lake must be the culprit as a shimmering wave of sleet covers the surface. All of the creatures except the horse and man are hibernating, awaiting the warmth of the sun. A slight melody comes from the mans lips, to keep himself awake. The scenery overwhelms him, forcing him to enjoy his long journey for just a moment.

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1. One day in January, I remember waking abruptly and rolling out of bed to peer out the bay window in the front room. Awoken by the answering machine, and a message from the school secretary informing us that school had been cancelled. A smile plastered on my face as I watched the snow flutter and fall to its resting place on our front lawn. I opened the door to the sound of clarity, crisp flakes crunching and the cars cautiously moving down the highway. The metro link usually comes around this time , but must have been delayed due to the snow. I burst into my sisters rooms announcing the good news, to only get a grumble from the eldest and a humble "ok" from the youngest. I broke out the hot cocoa and made myself a cup. Feeling inspired I grabbed my sketch book and sat at the couch with a blanket, sketching the landscape. I could only manage a dough like curve , compared to the spectacular portrait in the windowsill. To this day I wish I had a moment where work would just call me and cancel due to snowfall, and give myself time to enjoy peace and quiet.
2.We called it "The Cabin" even though it was in a housing culdesac. There are several lakes, forest and a ski lodge which surround this area in the Sierra Nevada , called June Lake. The minute the car parked my friend Alisha and sister Tori burst out of the car, quickly unpacked our luggage and opened the shed. There we found several sleds. We took them on a walk through the houses, uphill. We wanted to get the best slope to sled down. We ended up choosing the street closest to us, at a forty five degree angle, we crashed into the snow mound laughing at our invincibility. We dropped the sleds off and headed uphill again. This time in search for bears, deer and creeks. We found a dog , saying hello as we didn't see his owner nested on the front porch with coffee in hand, waving hello. We planted as many snow angels around the undisturbed snow beds. We approached the woods, thinking we were survivalists, building a tepee out of wood, collecting rocks for a fire pit; we were distracted by the boot prints. We followed them , wondering who they belonged to. We came across a man and woman with a dog, from a distance, at the ski lodge. Many cars awaiting the lodge to open, sledding, skiing and snowboarding is what we did the rest oft hat week.
3.This is not my memory, however an interpretation as I spent countless hours with my Grandma Tigger during the summer. She would tell me stores of her childhood and how we have t much better. One instance was when she lived in Wisconsin. Her cliche words of walking five miles in the snow, because school was never canceled in the snow, poked fun as in California if we had a flake of snow, school was cancelled. She said she would walk next to the farmer made fences of scrap wood, in her bright red coat her mother had sewn for her. Aged seven, she had her lunch pail and a stick she would drag in case she got lost, she could mark her trail and return to get her barrings. She would pass the neighbors house which was literally a farms length away, about five miles from her housing group. She would watch the horses ,trudging through the snow to get to the shelter. The smoke filling the sky from the houses she was attemopting to reach on the horizon. Sometimes she would have a fox follow her, looking for handouts from her lucnhpale, her father would come home early and pick her up or even hitchike the rest of the way. She said she hated when her boots would leak , but loved that when she got home the fire was going, and mom had fresh baked cookies to comfort her.

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A man , mid forties, riding his trusty stead after a log day. He is content , regardless of not having food or water since the last town roughly thirty miles behind them. He had traveled for a week South, hoping to sell his goods. Maple candies, soaps, syrups, elixirs and extracts . Being successful in selling all of his product, he feels unsuccessful having spent his earnings for his travels, and knowing he was still short of his necessary living expenses.

This is simply a hobby, his true passion is raising the money to support his family. A father of a boy and girl, a loving wife who bakes him pie upon his arrival back home. She shrieks in joy every time the snow begins to fall, a smile glistening and exciting , warming his heart. He knows he married his best friend. Think of a Laura Ingle Wilder illustration at home, the man plays his fiddle, reciting philosophy and hymns to his family; encouraging virtue and intellect in his kin. A philosophical man, he ponders the worlds state and how he may contribute to moving it forward.

He entwines himself in the maple trade paper daily, ensuring he can pay his taxes in a timely manner, but struggles as he started working at the age of twelve. With no time for education, he simply reads the same library of books, hoping he can earn enough to purchase another volume soon.

Stress is apart of his life, but he slows down for a second to enjoy the beauty. He is grateful for snow, regardless of the cold, the dancing of snowflakes, silence of infinite stretch of woods and inviting ambiance gives him relief to work that much harder to get home to see his loved ones.

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These words ring much deeper than simply a man walking across a beautiful scene. I as the reader resemble that although it is good to stop and basque in life's beauty and luxury, hard work still needs to be done. Despite the fun everyone else is having, memories being made, I have to put in the time and hard work before I can enjoy these. The promises I must keep, finishing school, succeeding, trying my best to reach my ultimate goal for my doctorate, conducting research and to find a cure for Diabetes. He is not sprinting in this poem, but pacing himself, while enjoying life and the scenery, maintaining momentum towards his goal.

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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.

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Star Night is a painting by Brian White which was uploaded on May 10th, 2012. The painting may be purchased as wall art, home decor, apparel, phone cases, greeting cards, and more. All products are produced on-demand and shipped worldwide within 2 - 3 business days.

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The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, &nb... Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

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I wrote it yesterday in a post about a huskies sledge in Germany: I suddenly feel something like homesickness for my adoptive country Germany, where I lived more than 30 years of my adult life. I lived the last years in Freiburg, in the South West, close to the Black Forest. As I was there, I did many sketches on site, but unfortunately most of them went lost as I moved away to Spain.

The other day I found an application for my Kindle Fire, which allows me to see some shows from the German TV. I am over the moon about it. Among others I saw a beautiful documentary and I am taking inspiration from it to make some new snow and animal paintings. I painted this one of the man and his horse crossing a wonderful snow landscape yesterday: my first painting in 2015!

I so much wished I were there right now!!!

This painting of a man and his horse and many more of animals are available directly online as Giclee print in many different dimensions, on paper, canvas or metal, and also as greeting cards. Please "click here to purchase" from the widget below to access my Shopping Cart Online. Then choose the gallery "Animals" in the menu on the left side.

And don't forget to check the fabulous throw pillows featuring my artwork, now available in many different sizes, as well as the many different phone cases! If you are interested, please click on the image below and you will accede my shop online.

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A Man And His Horse - New watercolour painting by Miki de Goodaboom

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I wrote it yesterday in a post about a huskies sledge in Germany: I suddenly feel something like homesickness for my adoptive country Germany, where I lived more than 30 years of my adult life. I lived the last years in Freiburg, in the South West, close to the Black Forest.

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Robert Frosts' Stopping by woods on a Snowy Evening is not a free verse poem, but utilizes a strategic rhyme and structure. An iambic tetrameter where each line is composed of four iambs or "daDUM" syllables illustrates tranquility of snowfall in a song like melody.
The Iambic foot is a soft first syllable with a second hard repeating four times, for example:
[unstressed syllable-stressed syllable]
[Whose woods] [these are] [I think] [I know.]
[His house] [is in] [the vil-] [-lage though;]
[He will] [not see] [me stop-] [-ping here]
[To watch] [his woods] [fill up] [with snow]

A Rubaiyat Stanza is incorporated as the second to last word in each stanza rhymes with the first, second and fourth lines in the next stanza. Thus creating a "forward" momentum.
With a rhyme scheme of AABA-BBCB-CCDC-DDDD, Frost resembles the falling of snow and without a DDED ending finality echoes as the snow has fallen in the DDDD scheme.

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And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

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Alliteration and assonance:

1. woods

2. know.though.snow.

3. here.queer.near.year.

4. lake.shake.mistake.flake.

5. deep.keep.sleep.

6. And miles to go before I sleep.

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queer - strange or odd
sweep - move swiftly and smoothly; a curving movement.
downy-soft and fluffy.

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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening By Robert Frost

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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening By Robert Frost

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Whose woods these are I think I know.      A
His house is in the village though;              A
He will not see me stopping here               B
To watch his woods fill up with snow.       A

My little horse must think it queer              B
To stop without a farmhouse near             B
Between the woods and frozen lake          C
The darkest evening of the year.                 B

He gives his harness bells a shake            C
To ask if there is some mistake.                 C
The only other sound’s the sweep              D
Of easy wind and downy flake.                    C

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,        D
But I have promises to keep,                       D
And miles to go before I sleep,                   D
And miles to go before I sleep.                   D