The Whispering Willow
A tale unfolds where moonlight spills, Upon a village ‘neath the hills. An ancient tree with branches low, Whose leaves in secret rhythms flow. They say it speaks to those who wait, Beyond the garden’s wooden gate. It tells of journeys, love, and grace, In whispers time cannot erase. One night a child, with heart so light, Approached the willow in the soft moonlight. She heard a story, old and deep, That promised wonders in her sleep. Of dragons sleeping under stone, And seeds of hope long-so...
The Whispering Willow
A tale unfolds where moonlight spills, Upon a village ‘neath the hills. An ancient tree with branches low, Whose leaves in secret rhythms flow. They say it speaks to those who wait, Beyond the garden’s wooden gate. It tells of journeys, love, and grace, In whispers time cannot erase. One night a child, with heart so light, Approached the willow in the soft moonlight. She heard a story, old and deep, That promised wonders in her sleep. Of dragons sleeping under stone, And seeds of hope long-so...
