In the quiet of the forest, where shadows softly dance,
Whispering leaves sing a song, a timeless, sweet romance.
Each branch a gentle hand, reaching for the skies,
Breathing life into the air, where the spirit of nature lies.

Beneath the emerald canopy, where sunlight filters through,
The trees stand tall and steadfast, their beauty ever true.
With roots deep in the earth, and crowns that touch the blue,
They tell the tales of ages past, in whispers old and new.

Their trunks, like ancient pillars, hold stories yet untold,
Of seasons come and gone, and mysteries they hold.
In every ring, a memory, a chapter of their lore,
Etched in time, they stand as sentinels, forever more.

Oh, how they dance in moonlight, and sway to nature’s tune,
Their leaves like gentle fingers, caressed by the soft monsoon.
In every rustling whisper, a secret and a dream,
The trees, eternal poets, in nature’s grand scheme.