In the quiet woods where whispers dwell,
Robert Frost finds secrets that nature tells.
The rustling leaves, the silent snow,
In their embrace, true peace we know.

He walks the path where shadows play,
In the gentle light of a fading day.
The birch trees bend with stories old,
Their branches weave tales yet untold.

Frost listens to the brook’s soft song,
A soothing rhythm where we belong.
The fields of gold, the sky so wide,
Nature’s beauty, our humble guide.

Through every season’s tender grace,
He finds life’s truths in nature’s face.
A poet’s heart, in nature’s arms,
Forever captivated by its charms.