In the shadow of ancient oaks we stand,
Seeking whispers of hope in the night.
Yeats’ dreams woven in the land,
Guiding hearts with gentle light.
The moon dances on a silver lake,
Casting shadows of forgotten lore.
In every ripple, a new hope we’ll take,
Echoes of dreams from distant shore.
Stars above sing a silent song,
Painting skies with tales untold.
In their light, we find where we belong,
As Yeats’ verses softly unfold.
Through the mist, a dawn we see,
A promise carried on the breeze.
Fear not the dark, for hope sets us free,
In Yeats’ words, our souls find peace.