The Whispering Brook
Beside the mossy stones I stray, Where silver waters dance and play. A lonely bird seeks evening’s rest, While sunset gilds the mountain’s crest. The moon ascends with gentle grace, To light this solitary place. Would that my thoughts like stream might flow— Where they might journey, none can know. Through pebbled paths and ferny deeps, The brook its liquid melody keeps. A timeless song of joy and sorrow, That speaks of new and old tomorrow.
The Whispering Brook
Beside the mossy stones I stray, Where silver waters dance and play. A lonely bird seeks evening’s rest, While sunset gilds the mountain’s crest. The moon ascends with gentle grace, To light this solitary place. Would that my thoughts like stream might flow— Where they might journey, none can know. Through pebbled paths and ferny deeps, The brook its liquid melody keeps. A timeless song of joy and sorrow, That speaks of new and old tomorrow.
