In the silent halls of memory,
Where words once danced with grace,
A poet’s voice now softly fades,
Yet leaves an endless trace.
His verses carved in humble stone,
Speak truths of land and lore,
A gentle whisper through the years,
Resonating evermore.
The earth he tilled with tender care,
Still breathes beneath his pen,
A testament to life and love,
In fields of ink and men.
Though time may dim his vibrant song,
His spirit lingers near,
In every line, a legacy,
Of wisdom we hold dear.