I wanted to share a few favorite words on this winter morning.
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost
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.
The view from my parent's home last Christmas morning |
Pink Frenchie,
ReplyDeleteI LOVE this poem but even more so with your beautiful photos!
I've had but one WHITE Christmas, Pink Frenchie.
ReplyDeleteNineteen and studying in Paris with JYF, I traveled to Kitzbuhel, Austria.
The Tyrolean houses with their sloped roofs looked like gingerbread topped with white icing.
That Christmas was magical!