Thursday, 5 February 2009

Boythorpe Woods, snow


Snow crackles,
falls from high branches
in sunlit warmth.

5 comments:

Megan said...

Wonderful - I'm loving it

Rachel Green said...

Thank you :)

sonia said...

love the sectioned tree and words.
Sonia

aims said...

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's 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.

Rachel Green said...

Beautiful
That's the second time I've seen Robert Frost quoted today.