A still pond lies under moon’s gentle gaze, Where silver ripples dance in quiet haze. No frog disturbs the peace of this dark night, Only starlight reflects in water bright. An old man sits by the shore with his rod, Whispering tales to the silent sod. He speaks of youth and days long passed away, While willow branches gently sway. The fish never bite, yet he stays till dawn, Finding solace where memories are drawn. For some seek not what waters may hold, But peace in stories left untold.
