In woods so deep, his words reside,
The paths untaken, where dreams abide.
A whisper of snow, a gentle sigh,
The quiet moments where thoughts fly.
He wandered through the birch and pine,
Seeking truths in the lines of time.
The road less traveled called his name,
A poet’s quest, an endless game.
With every verse, a world unfolds,
Nature’s secrets, the tales retold.
The frost of morning, the dawn’s embrace,
He captured life’s fleeting grace.
So here we stand, beside his streams,
Inspired by the poet’s dreams.
A legacy of words, profound and vast,
Robert Frost’s shadow will ever last.