Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lone wolf howls to stars above, Echoing tales of timeless love. Two ancient pines on ridge stand tall, Whispering secrets to enthrall, Of lovers who in springtime met, A vow ‘neath boughs they’d not forget. Through winters harsh and summers gold, Their story in the bark enrolled, Now travelers who pass this way, Hear their promises still sway. The wind composes melodies, Through needled branches in the breeze, A ...
