“…Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words...”
Just once, I’d give anything to have been a fly on the wall of Robert Frost’s office; poised on the window near where Mr. Frost sat, watching as he bounced things around in his head, perhaps chewing on a pencil end or puffing on his pipe, and at last, him finding the right words, watching him set pen to paper… watching just for the fun of it. Why not?
Then I’d fly off, marveling at a human who had time to write…
if robert frost wrote today- he would write in a blog cabin made of words in the snowy woods…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes you’re right! A ‘blog cabin made of words…’ Alas, that is what it has come to… and blog page ‘snow effects…’
Time to write… Yes, bliss 🙂