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.
Vintage Necklace
Vintage Shawl
Other than getting my shoes stuck in the mud, this shoot was beyond dreamy. Being a city gal does have its perks, but taking a moment to admire the magic of the great wide wood makes me long to heed
Mr. Frost's Words:
Mr. Frost's Words:
"To stop without a farmhouse near"
XOXO -Kenna





















































