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.
I thought these little snowballs on the ends of trimmed limbs were just the cutest things ever. How perfect they were. I had about 25 of them and just thought it was almost like God was making little snowballs to throw at the birds and squirrels so that they could enjoy the white powder too.
I love how the snow lays on the tree limbs too. It is as if it is frosting them. Everywhere I looked in my yard there was beautiful, clean, virginal snow and I enjoyed sitting in front of my picture window with a cup of coffee and relishing in all the snow glory. Happy Friday to all...and if it is snowing where you are...drive carefully!
No comments:
Post a Comment