In the heart of the ancient woods, where shadows dance and play,
Whispers linger in the breeze, secrets of the day.
Leaves rustle softly, a symphony so grand,
Nature’s voice sings gently, as if by a tender hand.

The sun filters through the canopy, painting golden hues,
On the forest floor it lands, with morning’s fresh dew.
Each step taken carefully, on the path so old,
The forest breathes a story, in whispers to be told.

A stream flows gently, with a song of its own,
Reflecting the sky above, in shades of twilight tone.
Rocks and roots embrace, in a timeless dance,
An eternal ballet, crafted by nature’s chance.

As night falls softly, stars begin to gleam,
The whispers of the forest, weave into a dream.
Moonlight bathes the landscape, in a silvery glow,
In the heart of the ancient woods, where whispers ebb and flow.