A gentle stream through mossy stones does glide, Reflecting clouds that in its surface glide. It murmurs tales of ancient mountain dreams, Where sunlight dances in a thousand gleams. Two children once upon its banks did play, Who chased the butterflies throughout the day. They built a boat of leaves and twine so fine, And set it sailing on the water’s line. The tiny vessel danced with current’s flow, Through rustling reeds where silver minnows glow. It carried secrets from the woodland deep, ...

A gentle stream through mossy stones does glide, Reflecting clouds that in its surface glide. It murmurs tales of ancient mountain dreams, Where sunlight dances in a thousand gleams. Two children once upon its banks did play, Who chased the butterflies throughout the day. They built a boat of leaves and twine so fine, And set it sailing on the water’s line. The tiny vessel danced with current’s flow, Through rustling reeds where silver minnows glow. It carried secrets from the woodland deep, ...