Who stands there in my woods
While far I am from the village glow
I see him there, stopping here
To watch my woods fill up with snow.
His little horse stirs and moves his feet
As if to seek a farmhouse stable near
Or frightened of the frozen lake
And this darkest time of year.
Hark, I hear the shaking harness bells
His collar rings in the silent night
And I see the solace of the boy
In the soft snows chilling bite.
These dark woods of mine have beauty
Twixt the frozen lake, neath falling snow
But look the boy and pony move along
Then halt and look again before they go
They look, but soon they move and go
Through darkened woods in falling snow
For they’ve long miles to go
For they’ve long miles to go.
Copyright © 2017 Grant Fenton – All Rights Reserved