Beneath the moon's soft silver gleam, An ancient pine recounts a dream Of whispered tales through rustling boughs That time itself cannot arouse. A traveler paused in twilight's hue To hear what only pines construe - Of lovers' vows in spring's embrace, Of winter's solitary grace. Each needle holds a story sealed In resinous truth, never revealed, Yet in the wind's eternal sigh Lives all that was and ne'er will die.

Beneath the moon's soft silver gleam, An ancient pine recounts a dream Of whispered tales through rustling boughs That time itself cannot arouse. A traveler paused in twilight's hue To hear what only pines construe - Of lovers' vows in spring's embrace, Of winter's solitary grace. Each needle holds a story sealed In resinous truth, never revealed, Yet in the wind's eternal sigh Lives all that was and ne'er will die.