Inspired by the great Robert Frost's
"Stopping by a Woods on a Snowy Eve."
SNOWFALL AT NIGHTFALL
On this darkest eve of the year
my little mare and I stop near
the woods stark in the waning light
and sit entranced as the wind clear
and sad haunts as a trumpet might
when played alone late in the night.
We'd stay longer but 'twould alarm
the village and cause needless fright.
Yet the muted strains still and charm.
To sit a moment more can't harm.
The snow is where the woods break
toward the lake near the Frost farm.
My little mare's harness bells shake—
a reminder I've miles to make
and must longer yet stay awake,
and must longer yet stay awake.
© By Rod Franklin (AMPAW@aol.com)