Whispers of the Wild

In forest hush where green leaves sway,
Two hearts meet where the shadows play.
The wind, a minstrel, hums their song,
A rhythm sweet, both wild and strong.

She steps through ferns with silent grace,
The morning light upon her face.
He watches like the river’s gaze,
Drawn to her in golden haze.

The flowers bloom with blushing pride,
As if they know love walks beside.
The hummingbirds in circles spin—
A dance of joy, of flame within.

Beneath the boughs, where time is still,
They share a look, the world grows still.
No words are said, no vows are made,
Yet nature hums the love they’ve laid.

A dewdrop falls from cedar high,
Reflecting hope like starlit sky.
The mountains hold their breath above,
Guardians old of newfound love.

And when the dusk paints skies with fire,
They lie in grass, hearts climbing higher.
The crickets sing, the moonlight weaves
A silver path through rustling leaves.

Oh, love born not of stone or wall,
But skies and streams and pine trees tall.
Romance that lives in earth’s embrace—
A sacred, slow, eternal grace.