From cobblers' hands I'm born anew, I cradle feet both young and old, In pairs I dance, through rain and dew, Oh my stars, I have tales untold.

Beside the road but made for feet, I’m smoother ground for calm retreat. Paved or tiled, I edge the way A safer stretch for your next day. What am I?

I’m taken, not grown, once a year from one who grazes. Warm without weight, soft without silk. I shield you from cold long after I leave my source. What am I?

It carries you across the ground, a silent chaperone to every step, hugging the terrain while keeping your tread pristine.

Crowning glory sits, Above the brow's quiet arch, Shading sun's bright gaze.