Poetry Friday

"The year's at the spring

And day's at the morn;

Morning's at seven;

The hillside's dew-pearled;

The lark's on the wing;

The snail's on the thorn;

God's in His heaven -

All's right with the world!"

Robert Browning

There was a little

Who had a little curl

Right in the middle of her forehead

And when she was good

She was very very good

But when she was bad she was horrid

Not that my Kinberly would ever be horrid!

Poetry Friday

Dust of Snow

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued

Robert Frost