In the heart of the ancient woods,
Where the emerald leaves softly sway,
The whispers of the trees unfold,
Stories of a forgotten day.

Beneath the canopy’s gentle shade,
Sunlight filters through in streams,
Painting patterns on the forest floor,
Like a tapestry of dreams.

The brook sings a lullaby,
As it winds its way through stone,
A melody so pure and clear,
In a language all its own.

The scent of earth, so rich and deep,
Fills the air with nature’s song,
In the embrace of the ancient woods,
Where every soul belongs.