In the shade of whispering leaves,
The gentle grove breathes soft and light,
Where sunbeams play and weave,
A tapestry of golden delight.

The brook hums a tender tune,
Caressing stones with liquid grace,
Underneath the watchful moon,
Nature paints a tranquil face.

Wildflowers dance in the breeze,
Their colors like a painter’s dream,
Swaying with effortless ease,
Beside the murmuring stream.

Here in this small, sacred place,
Time seems to gently pause,
Wrapped in nature’s warm embrace,
Bound by no earthly laws.