Words to Live by

I wanted to share a few favorite words on this winter morning. 
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. 

The view from my parent's home last Christmas morning


  1. Pink Frenchie,

    I LOVE this poem but even more so with your beautiful photos!

  2. I've had but one WHITE Christmas, Pink Frenchie.
    Nineteen 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!


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