A gentle stream through mossy stones does glide, Beneath the willow’s gracefully bowed shade, Where silver minnows in the sunbeams play, And dragonflies in dazzling hues array. An ancient oak, its branches stretched out wide, Guards secrets that the waters have conveyed— Of travelers’ hopes and lovers’ vows once made, Whose echoes in its rustling leaves abide. Yet time flows on as ceaseless as the tide, The brook still whispers stories yet untold, Of moments new and memories of old, In its en...
