With apologies to Robert Frost . Whose woods these are, I think I know A multi-national timber Co. They would not like me stopping here To watch their woods fill up with snow . My little sled must think it queer To stop without a gas pump near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year . He gives his idler valve a shake To ask if there is some mistake The only other sound,if one listens Are disappearing eco-systems . The woods were lovely,dark,and deep But we made promises we couldn't keep And now the woods are not so deep And now the woods are not so deep
Hi Roberto, Thanks for the comments on "Stopping by Woods". Unfortunately I don't understand Italian and when I clicked the "translate" button, it did not translate, but thank you anyway.
Matt How strange you should comment on my latest upload, yesterday I had little time to check in, but wrote your name down, to remind me to come back to your portfolio. [Anyway thanks for the comment] I like this very much, and very clever words to go with it Margaret
Hi Mark Thanks for commenting on the poem and photograph. That poem by Robert Frost just kept going around in my mind while I was riding home, so I just wrote a parody a la Weird Al Yankovic. I took two shots, one with flash and one without,and I ended up using the flash. Thats why some of the snowflakes look like huge blobs. MH
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