A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Whispering tales of ancient days in soft, hushed tones. The willow trees bend low to hear the water’s song, A melody that’s carried all the summer long. A traveler rests upon the bank in dappled light, His weary soul refreshed by nature’s pure delight. The brook tells stories of the mountains, high and grand, Of journeys through the forests and across the sand. In every bubble, in every ripple clear, Lies wisdom from the past, for those who l...
