Beneath the canopy of emerald dreams,
Where shadows dance with sunlit beams,
A whispering breeze weaves through the trees,
Singing secrets of the gentle leaves.
In the heart of the silent hills, a hidden glade,
Where time pauses, and echoes fade,
Moss blankets the ancient stones,
Telling tales in hushed, earthy tones.
The brook’s laughter, a silver thread,
Winding through the forest bed,
It carries wishes and forgotten sighs,
Beneath the watchful, azure skies.
Here, amidst the tranquil, verdant seas,
Souls find solace, hearts find ease,
In this sanctuary, soft and vast,
The forest whispers of the past.