In the heart of the ancient hills, a whisper calls,
A tale spun in threads of gold, where sunbeam falls.
Each grain a memory, each glint a dream,
Echoing through valleys, where past and future gleam.

The river of gold flows silently, beneath the sky,
Its waves dance to the rhythm of the ages gone by.
In its depths lie secrets, of kings and queens bold,
Their stories etched in lustrous lines of gold.

Fields of gold stretch far, kissing the horizon’s edge,
A sea of light, where dreams and reality pledge.
In the glow of dusk, as shadows softly unfold,
The world is wrapped in the warmth of gold.

So let us wander, in this golden embrace,
Through time’s tapestry, in this endless space.
For in each golden moment, a story untold,
Awaits to unfold in the hues of gold.