The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver glow, Two ancient pines began to grow. Their roots entwined in earth so deep, While all the forest lay asleep. One spoke of winds on mountain high, The other of a cloudless sky. They shared the sun, the rain, the snow, Through seasons’ gentle ebb and flow. A traveler paused at break of day, Heard their whispered roundelay. And carried forth their timeless tale— How friendship makes the spirit hale. Now when the evening breezes sigh, Their boughs still sing their...
The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver glow, Two ancient pines began to grow. Their roots entwined in earth so deep, While all the forest lay asleep. One spoke of winds on mountain high, The other of a cloudless sky. They shared the sun, the rain, the snow, Through seasons’ gentle ebb and flow. A traveler paused at break of day, Heard their whispered roundelay. And carried forth their timeless tale— How friendship makes the spirit hale. Now when the evening breezes sigh, Their boughs still sing their...
