Friday, December 24, 2004

Merry Christmas

It's Christmas Eve Day. And tomorow is Christmas.
Somehow it doesn't seem right to be blogging just now. It's a problem with space in the heart.
Here is a Robert Frost poem for today...

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

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.

1 comment:

Deborah said...

A lovely poem. My second favorite poem...written by my favorite poet. (The first, of course, being "The Road Not Taken.)

We DO think remarkably alike!

Merry Christmas. :)