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.

The 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 and dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

And miles to go before I sleep.

We visited some dear friends Thursday night, and had sweet fellowship . We were blessed to visit with them, and was blessed with this sighting of deer in their front yard !

This is a common occurrence for our friends! They are so blessed!!