Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient oak relates a stream Of tales from ages long since passed, Where shadows dance and dreams amass. A traveler paused to hear its voice, In wooded realms where pines rejoice, Each rustling leaf a word expressed, Of journeys taken, trials blessed. The wind carried a mournful tune, Of lovers parted ‘neath the moon, Yet hope persisted through the night, As stars emerged with gentle light. So stands the tree through time’s embrace, A sentinel of truth...

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient oak relates a stream Of tales from ages long since passed, Where shadows dance and dreams amass. A traveler paused to hear its voice, In wooded realms where pines rejoice, Each rustling leaf a word expressed, Of journeys taken, trials blessed. The wind carried a mournful tune, Of lovers parted ‘neath the moon, Yet hope persisted through the night, As stars emerged with gentle light. So stands the tree through time’s embrace, A sentinel of truth...