
by 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. 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.


Credits: Skin-Curio/ opaline sugarplum, Eyes-Redgrave Julia(romantic green),Hair Kyoot/Wynter-Ginger, Coat-B@R Fur Parka, Illusions-Mystic Ear/Elfin/naturals, Boots-First Flower-Witch Hazel/white.Poses by LAP, Reel Expression and KopiSusu.
Shot in Spellbound Woods.
No comments:
Post a Comment