The Whispering Brook
A gentle stream flows through the mossy stones, Whispering tales of forgotten times and zones. It curls around the roots of ancient trees, Carrying secrets on the evening breeze. A traveler pauses by its silver gleam, To ponder life like some half-faded dream. The water sings of journeys yet untold, Of summer warmth and winter’s bitter cold. In every ripple, stories come alive— How hope persists and fragile hearts survive. The brook flows on, both timeless and serene, A quiet witness to what ...
The Whispering Brook
A gentle stream flows through the mossy stones, Whispering tales of forgotten times and zones. It curls around the roots of ancient trees, Carrying secrets on the evening breeze. A traveler pauses by its silver gleam, To ponder life like some half-faded dream. The water sings of journeys yet untold, Of summer warmth and winter’s bitter cold. In every ripple, stories come alive— How hope persists and fragile hearts survive. The brook flows on, both timeless and serene, A quiet witness to what ...
