Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine shares secret dreams. Its needles trace the passing years, While holding fast through joy and tears. A traveler rests against its bark, And listens to the stories dark— Of lovers’ vows in twilight made, Of warriors’ peace beneath its shade. The wind now hums a lullaby, As stars ignite the velvet sky. This timeless sentinel stands tall, Guardian of memories all.
