The Whispering Brook
A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Whispering tales of forgotten dreams and ancient tones. Beneath the willow’s shade, where golden sunlight plays, A lonely traveler rests to count his passing days. He hears the water murmur secrets old and deep, Of promises the mountains once were sworn to keep. The breeze carries a fragrance of blossoms from afar, And paints the dusk with hues of evening’s silver star. Though roads may stretch beyond what eyes can ever see, The brook sings o...
The Whispering Brook
A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Whispering tales of forgotten dreams and ancient tones. Beneath the willow’s shade, where golden sunlight plays, A lonely traveler rests to count his passing days. He hears the water murmur secrets old and deep, Of promises the mountains once were sworn to keep. The breeze carries a fragrance of blossoms from afar, And paints the dusk with hues of evening’s silver star. Though roads may stretch beyond what eyes can ever see, The brook sings o...