A lonely willow bends by the silent stream, Its leaves tell tales in the moon’s gentle gleam. Of lovers’ vows and secrets softly spoken, Under branches weathered, frayed and broken. A traveler rests, hearing whispers old, A story of silver and of gold. Of a king who lost his crown one night, Chasing a feather in the pale starlight. He wandered far, beyond his land, Guided only by a phantom’s hand. Till he found wisdom in the humble earth, And learned the true measure of his worth. Now the wil...
