A gentle brook meanders through the mossy stones, Whispering ancient tales in soft, watery tones. The willow trees bend low to hear the secret song, As sunlight dances where the forest shadows throng. A lonely traveler pauses by the crystal stream, Watching silver fish fulfill their watery dream. He drinks the coolness, resting from his weary way, Finding peace in this quiet spot, he longs to stay. But time flows onward like the brook’s unceasing flight, So he must journey on beyond the fadin...
