The Whispering Brook
A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Murmuring secrets to the ancient pines. Silver fish dart beneath the water’s glass, While dragonflies hover on delicate designs. An old willow dips its leaves to drink, Shading the bank where wild orchids bloom. The moon rises, painting a path of light, As night’s curtain falls on nature’s quiet room. In this hushed world, time slows its pace, And every ripple tells a timeless tale. The brook flows on, never looking back, Carrying dreams beyo...
The Whispering Brook
A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Murmuring secrets to the ancient pines. Silver fish dart beneath the water’s glass, While dragonflies hover on delicate designs. An old willow dips its leaves to drink, Shading the bank where wild orchids bloom. The moon rises, painting a path of light, As night’s curtain falls on nature’s quiet room. In this hushed world, time slows its pace, And every ripple tells a timeless tale. The brook flows on, never looking back, Carrying dreams beyo...
