The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Tall pines whisper a timeless theme. Their branches sway in gentle rhyme, Echoing through the halls of time. A traveler pauses on the trail, Hearing stories old and pale. Of mountains high and valleys deep, Secrets that the forests keep. Each needle holds a drop of dew, Reflecting skies of endless blue. Nature’s verse, both wild and free, Sings a song for you and me.
The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Tall pines whisper a timeless theme. Their branches sway in gentle rhyme, Echoing through the halls of time. A traveler pauses on the trail, Hearing stories old and pale. Of mountains high and valleys deep, Secrets that the forests keep. Each needle holds a drop of dew, Reflecting skies of endless blue. Nature’s verse, both wild and free, Sings a song for you and me.
