Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient oak recalls a stream Of memories from days long past, Where shadows of our joys were cast. A traveler paused with weary feet, And found a solace cool and sweet In groves where whispered breezes sigh Secrets as the years drift by. Though seasons change and paths may fade, The peace within this piney glade Remains—a timeless, gentle friend Whose quiet strength will never end.
