The Whispering Pines
<The Whispering Pines> Beneath the moon's soft silver gleam, An ancient pine recalls a stream Where two young hearts once vowed to stay Through seasons' slow, relentless sway. Its needles murmur tales untold Of summer warmth and winter's cold, Of letters carved in bark now grown With secrets only wind has known. A lonely traveler pauses near, And in the rustling sounds, can hear Faint echoes from a long-lost day— The forest keeps what words betray.
The Whispering Pines
<The Whispering Pines> Beneath the moon's soft silver gleam, An ancient pine recalls a stream Where two young hearts once vowed to stay Through seasons' slow, relentless sway. Its needles murmur tales untold Of summer warmth and winter's cold, Of letters carved in bark now grown With secrets only wind has known. A lonely traveler pauses near, And in the rustling sounds, can hear Faint echoes from a long-lost day— The forest keeps what words betray.
The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine forest stands in dream. Its needled boughs weave tales untold, Of winter’s frost and summers old. A traveler walks with weary feet, Where earth and sky in silence meet. He hears a voice upon the breeze, That hums through centuries-old trees. It speaks of kings who passed this way, Of lovers’ vows that could not stay. Of battles fought in morning dew, And hopes that like the pine needles grew. The wind composes, branch by branch, A symphony...
The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine forest stands in dream. Its needled boughs weave tales untold, Of winter’s frost and summers old. A traveler walks with weary feet, Where earth and sky in silence meet. He hears a voice upon the breeze, That hums through centuries-old trees. It speaks of kings who passed this way, Of lovers’ vows that could not stay. Of battles fought in morning dew, And hopes that like the pine needles grew. The wind composes, branch by branch, A symphony...
