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 shadow and the light divide. He heard a voice among the boughs— Not wind, but words from long-lost vows. Of lovers who beneath this tree, Swore faith for all eternity. Their names now carved in bark grown old, A story time could never hold. The stars above like witnesses, Through centuries of silences. Still keep the sec...
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 shadow and the light divide. He heard a voice among the boughs— Not wind, but words from long-lost vows. Of lovers who beneath this tree, Swore faith for all eternity. Their names now carved in bark grown old, A story time could never hold. The stars above like witnesses, Through centuries of silences. Still keep the sec...
