In the gentle sigh of trees, whispers speak,
Echoes of Frost’s words in nature’s embrace,
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep they seek,
In quiet corners, time’s gentle trace.
Amidst the boughs, where sunlight softly weaves,
The dance of shadows plays in tranquil ease,
Frostâs spirit wanders where the heart believes,
In whispered winds and rustling leaves.
The paths less traveled, winding through the pines,
Hold secrets of the earth and sky’s embrace,
In every step, a symphony of lines,
That speaks to those who listen to its grace.
Natureâs voice, in Frost’s poetic hand,
Reflects the soul’s deep longing for retreat,
In every season, every grain of sand,
A journey etched, where earth and spirit meet.