Children Among Roses by the Lake

Whispers of the Mountain Glen

Beneath the peak where eagles soar,

A lake lies still with emerald shore.

Green fields roll wide in silent grace,

Each blade of grass a soft embrace.

Tall trees guard the calm with pride,

Their shadows stretch the mountainside.

Roses bloom in morning light,

Petals glowing, pure and bright.

Children laugh among the flowers,

Lost in scent and golden hours.

One bends low to gently share

A blossom’s breath, sweet summer air.

Chairs sit idle near the stream,

Worn by time and caught in dream.

The sky, a canvas brushed with blue,

Holds clouds that drift like thoughts anew.

Here, nature speaks without a sound—

A sacred peace the heart has found.