Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Tall pines whisper a ancient dream. Their needled branches gently sway, As night bids farewell to the day. A traveler rests against the bark, Hearing stories in the dark. Of mountains old and rivers deep, Secrets the forest yearns to keep. The wind composes melodies, Carried through the towering trees. Each gust a verse, each sigh a rhyme, Transcending bounds of space and time. Dawn approaches, pale and clear, Yet still their music lingers near. For in th...

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Tall pines whisper a ancient dream. Their needled branches gently sway, As night bids farewell to the day. A traveler rests against the bark, Hearing stories in the dark. Of mountains old and rivers deep, Secrets the forest yearns to keep. The wind composes melodies, Carried through the towering trees. Each gust a verse, each sigh a rhyme, Transcending bounds of space and time. Dawn approaches, pale and clear, Yet still their music lingers near. For in th...