Poetry Friday 10

In a vague attempt to counteract the heatwave we continue to have here in Europe, here are some wintry/snowy poems. This first one is a particular favourite of mine:

The More It Snows

The more it snows --
tiddely pom,
The more it goes --
tiddely pom,
The more it goes --
tiddely pom
On snowing --

And nobody knows --
tiddely pom ,
How cold my toes --
tiddely pom,
Are growing.

A. A. Milne

The next two are by Robert Frost, one of the few American poets whose poetry I have read.

Dust Of Snow

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.


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.

Robert Frost