In the heart of rolling hills, where time gently sways,
A village whispers stories of forgotten days.
Cobblestone paths lead to dreams untold,
Where every sunrise paints the skies in gold.
Children’s laughter echoes through the fields,
Nature’s bounty, a harvest that never yields.
Under the ancient oak, elders share their lore,
Binding generations with tales of yore.
The river sings a song of lifeâs gentle flow,
Carrying secrets only the village knows.
Each cottage stands, a testament of grace,
Crafted by hands that time cannot erase.
As dusk descends, stars begin to weave,
Mystic patterns in the tapestry they leave.
In the village chorus, where hearts find peace,
Life unfolds in a gentle, eternal lease.