In the quiet woods where shadows play,
Among the trees where whispers sway,
The echoes of a poet’s voice,
In nature’s song, we find our choice.

Beneath the boughs where light is dim,
His verses dance on nature’s whim,
The paths he walked, the roads he chose,
In every leaf, his spirit flows.

The winter’s chill, the summer’s glow,
In every season, his words flow,
A journey through the fields and streams,
Where dreams are born and silence dreams.

So let us roam these trails anew,
With Frost’s own words as guiding clue,
In every step, his wisdom rings,
In every line, the forest sings.