My little horse must think it queer   
To stop without a farmhouse near

I see the trees weighed down with snow
It’s getting late we’d better go

But oh before we start the trot
I think it’s best we give some thought

To preparations for the trip
But wait you can’t prepare a whim

Oh woe is me I should have stayed
At home where my warm bed is made

Oh well I guess it’s just too late
Let us enjoy what God creates

The trees, the snow, the wooded scenes
The cooling chill upon our cheeks

Until we’re home in warmth and fed
Let us embrace the snowy blanket ahead

My little horse must think it queer   
To stop without a farmhouse near

~Rebeli

(credit: 1st and last lines to : Robert Frost -Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening)