The Whispering Brook
A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Whispering tales of ancient days in soft, watery tones. The willow trees bend low to hear the secrets it imparts, While sunlight dances on the waves like joyful, gleaming darts. A traveler pauses by its bank, weary from the road, And finds his burdens lifted, his heart a lighter load. For in the brook’s clear waters, a truth begins to shine— The simplest joys of nature make living truly divine. So let the world rush onward, with all its noise...
The Whispering Brook
A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Whispering tales of ancient days in soft, watery tones. The willow trees bend low to hear the secrets it imparts, While sunlight dances on the waves like joyful, gleaming darts. A traveler pauses by its bank, weary from the road, And finds his burdens lifted, his heart a lighter load. For in the brook’s clear waters, a truth begins to shine— The simplest joys of nature make living truly divine. So let the world rush onward, with all its noise...
