The Whispering Oak

The Whispering Oak

Beneath the sky so vast and wide,

The old oak tree stands with pride.

Its roots run deep, its branches high,

A quiet witness to the years gone by.

The wind would hum a gentle tune,

Its leaves would dance beneath the moon.

And in its hollow, secrets sleep,

Of magic realms it vowed to keep.

I placed my hand upon its bark,

The sun had set, the world grew dark.

A golden light began to gleam,

It felt like stepping into a dream.

I saw a world both wild and free,

A land that called, “Come, follow me.”

With rivers bright and forests tall,

A place where peace could touch us all.

The oak now guards this sacred land,

With every leaf, a helping hand.

And though its whispers fade with time,

Its magic lives in this heart of mine.

Kefrina Rahman, Grade VI

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