The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pinewood tells a dream. Its needles trace on forest floor, What time and memory restore. A traveler paused at eventide, Where shadows and the breezes hide. He heard a voice among the boughs, That spoke of long-forgotten vows. Of lovers who in springtime met, Whose hearts in harmony were set. They carved their names upon the bark, A promise shining through the dark. But seasons turned and years flew fast, The carved initials still would last. Th...
The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pinewood tells a dream. Its needles trace on forest floor, What time and memory restore. A traveler paused at eventide, Where shadows and the breezes hide. He heard a voice among the boughs, That spoke of long-forgotten vows. Of lovers who in springtime met, Whose hearts in harmony were set. They carved their names upon the bark, A promise shining through the dark. But seasons turned and years flew fast, The carved initials still would last. Th...
