A babbling brook flows through the mossy stones, Whispering tales of forgotten lands and ancient tones. Silver fish dart ‘neath the willow’s gentle shade, Where dreams and reality begin to fade. A traveler paused to drink its crystal clearness, And heard the water speak of joy and tearfulness. It sang of mountains high and oceans deep, Of promises the world struggles to keep. The sun dipped low in the violet twilight sky, As fireflies emerged with a soft, glowing sigh. The brook flowed on, it...
