The Whispering Brook
<The Whispering Brook> A gentle stream through mossy stones does wind, Its silver voice a balm to troubled mind. It carves its path where ancient willows weep, And secrets to the thirsty roots does keep. The moon above, a silent watcher, gleams Upon this dance of water, light, and dreams. No mighty ocean's roar can compare To this small brook's wise and humble prayer. It sings of time that flows and does not stay, Of sunlit hours and stars along the way. So pause and listen to the water's son...
The Whispering Brook
<The Whispering Brook> A gentle stream through mossy stones does wind, Its silver voice a balm to troubled mind. It carves its path where ancient willows weep, And secrets to the thirsty roots does keep. The moon above, a silent watcher, gleams Upon this dance of water, light, and dreams. No mighty ocean's roar can compare To this small brook's wise and humble prayer. It sings of time that flows and does not stay, Of sunlit hours and stars along the way. So pause and listen to the water's son...
