A lonely willow stands by the lake,

Its branches trembling with each breath they take.

A traveler paused beneath its shade one night,

And heard the leaves recount a tale of light.

They spoke of moons that rose and seasons turned,

Of love that bloomed and bridges slowly burned.

A king who lost his crown to chase a dream,

A painter capturing a silent stream.

The wind carried the words across the years—

A symphony of laughter, hope, and tears.

The traveler left as dawn began to break,

Still hearing stories with each step he’d take.

Now legends say if you stand very still,

The willow shares its magic at its will.