Beneath the sunlit dome they stand,
Silent guardians of time’s gentle hand,
In whispers of leaves they tell their lore,
Of days that were and dreams they bore.

Through seasons’ dance and tempest’s call,
They rise with grace, though shadows fall,
Their roots embrace the earth’s warm heart,
A timeless bond that will not part.

Under starlit skies, their branches weave,
A tapestry of dreams they conceive,
In moonlit nights, their secrets unfold,
Stories of life in hushed tones told.

Yet in their shade, life finds its place,
A haven of peace, a tranquil space,
The trees, in majesty, watch and wait,
Guardians of nature, silent and great.