| 011. I See the Bad Moon Rising |
[06 Nov 1976|02:04am] |
( Private to the Gryffindor Four )
Now that Halloween is past and November is here, and with it has come the cold weather (as well as the destructive bonfires), I thought it might finally be appropriate to pull out a proper wintery poem. It's one of my favorites, "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening," 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.
Remember Remember the Fifth of November,
Remus J. Lupin
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