Converge at the core of boroughs four;
Ride through the Governor's greenery
On parkland pleasant, from past to present,
And over the spiritous scenery.

To center your thoughts and locate our spots
On the southwestern side of the Park,
As flies the sparrow, follow the arrow
Northward to make your mark!

Whoever is certain will lift the curtain,
Knowing the key to our quest—
It is, however, a trick to be clever,
So put yourself to the test!

As you make your way 'round the lake
Embarking from west to east,
Trace the edge, through moss and sedge;
Reckon to most from least.

HINT
If you're still not certain what you should do,
You might revise how you parse the clue.

This town's namesake is a local lake,
But it's not the place to be;
The spot can be found the other way ‘round—
A name that's the same is key.

To track down that bounty, search in a county
That shares a border with this 'un—
Where public perusing could be confusing;
Maybe the park should rechristen?

Take a peek down by the creek
For a taste of the secret sauce;
Find a coin where waters join—
Just make your way across!

The park entails a cure for what ails;
It bears a felicitous name—
In memory of the brotherly love
That brought the town its fame.

Take a trip and give a flip
To a coin among the pines—
A soaring site, first in flight—
Arranged in tidy lines.

Find a purse—shift to reverse
With a Jeffersonian air;
One of the greats, Thomas waits
On the nickel over there.

A school on high was home to a guy,
Now namesake of the county;
He came from Peoria, to prompt euphoria—
Revealing the realm of our bounty.

Out at the lake—bear, gather, and make
The fire, wood, and torch;
Share some s'mores in the great outdoors—
But be careful not to scorch!

Speed away to conquer the day—
Motor off and then park it;
Reach new heights with starry sights
On a trail with an X to mark it.

For land's sake, rise as you rake
For the camo containers you seek;
Their sylvan keep is not so steep,
So race up the treasured peak!

There's music to hear, so be a dear—
Tune in to the proper station;
Listener-devoted transmissions decoded
Through frequency modulation.

Chart a course to the signal's source
And dial it in—to a degree;
For fruitful faring, follow a bearing
Of eighty-nine point three.

Pack a punch—and a final box lunch,
With a whopper and a slider;
Get down and deep and high and steep—
With bird and bear and spider.

But don't be rash as you track your cache,
Lest ye roam hither and thither;
Hide and seek east of the cordial creek—
But stick to the west of the river!

Where waters grand define the land,
Stick to the south of the line;
Cross over and seek along the creek
To forage for one final find.

Our war of wits comes down to this—
The penultimate peccadillo;
So go and get 'er—the final letter—
In the shadow of the big willow!

Update

With the final clue just days away,
Our hunt is intact—which is to say:
A quick inspection has confirmed
The secret spot remains unturned!

Bonus Clue

   

Across the Mekong, he fled the throng
To a Little Laos on the Prairie;
Called to glory through telling his story,
He found his sanctuary...

Where willow weeps, a tribute sleeps
In the peaceful shade below—
Carrying on his soul-calling song:
"Go Hmong boy, go Hmong boy, go!"