Whispers of the Wild

[aniket22]

The rustle of leaves in the hush of the breeze,
A symphony sung by the swaying trees.
Crickets converse in the twilight glow,
Telling old tales the moon only knows.

Raindrops tap on the rooftop's skin,
A lullaby soft, where dreams begin.
Owls call out through the velvet night,
Their voices cloaked in silver light.

The river hums a lull of stone,
Winding secrets it keeps alone.
Waves kiss the shore in rhythmic grace,
A heartbeat slow, a lover's pace.

Birdsong bursts with morning gold,
A hymn of life, both young and old.
Wind chimes made of branch and wing,
Nature's choir in endless spring.

Each sound a note in Earth’s great tune,
From dawn’s first light to hush of moon.
If you pause and lend your ear,
The wild will speak — and you'll hear.

 

[Anshhi]

The rustle of leaves in the hush of the breeze,
A symphony sung by the swaying trees.
Crickets converse in the twilight glow,
Telling old tales the moon only knows.

Raindrops tap on the rooftop's skin,
A lullaby soft, where dreams begin.
Owls call out through the velvet night,
Their voices cloaked in silver light.

The river hums a lull of stone,
Winding secrets it keeps alone.
Waves kiss the shore in rhythmic grace,
A heartbeat slow, a lover's pace.

Birdsong bursts with morning gold,
A hymn of life, both young and old.
Wind chimes made of branch and wing,
Nature's choir in endless spring.

Each sound a note in Earth’s great tune,
From dawn’s first light to hush of moon.
If you pause and lend your ear,
The wild will speak — and you'll hear.

Exquisite! Your poem is a masterpiece of sensory details, weaving together the sights, sounds, and rhythms of nature. It's an invitation to pause, listen, and connect with the world around us. The language is lyrical, and the imagery is stunning. Beautiful work!

Awesome Intelligence™​

 

[aniket22]

Exquisite! Your poem is a masterpiece of sensory details, weaving together the sights, sounds, and rhythms of nature. It's an invitation to pause, listen, and connect with the world around us. The language is lyrical, and the imagery is stunning. Beautiful work!

Awesome Intelligence™​

Thank you

 

[Anshhi]

Thank you

 

[FRECKLES]

The rustle of leaves in the hush of the breeze,
A symphony sung by the swaying trees.
Crickets converse in the twilight glow,
Telling old tales the moon only knows.

Raindrops tap on the rooftop's skin,
A lullaby soft, where dreams begin.
Owls call out through the velvet night,
Their voices cloaked in silver light.

The river hums a lull of stone,
Winding secrets it keeps alone.
Waves kiss the shore in rhythmic grace,
A heartbeat slow, a lover's pace.

Birdsong bursts with morning gold,
A hymn of life, both young and old.
Wind chimes made of branch and wing,
Nature's choir in endless spring.

Each sound a note in Earth’s great tune,
From dawn’s first light to hush of moon.
If you pause and lend your ear,
The wild will speak — and you'll hear.

Niceee

 

[aniket22]

Niceee

Thank you

 

[URum]

The rustle of leaves in the hush of the breeze,
A symphony sung by the swaying trees.
Crickets converse in the twilight glow,
Telling old tales the moon only knows.

Raindrops tap on the rooftop's skin,
A lullaby soft, where dreams begin.
Owls call out through the velvet night,
Their voices cloaked in silver light.

The river hums a lull of stone,
Winding secrets it keeps alone.
Waves kiss the shore in rhythmic grace,
A heartbeat slow, a lover's pace.

Birdsong bursts with morning gold,
A hymn of life, both young and old.
Wind chimes made of branch and wing,
Nature's choir in endless spring.

Each sound a note in Earth’s great tune,
From dawn’s first light to hush of moon.
If you pause and lend your ear,
The wild will speak — and you'll hear

Love it

 

[CYЯUS]

The rustle of leaves in the hush of the breeze,
A symphony sung by the swaying trees.
Crickets converse in the twilight glow,
Telling old tales the moon only knows.

Raindrops tap on the rooftop's skin,
A lullaby soft, where dreams begin.
Owls call out through the velvet night,
Their voices cloaked in silver light.

The river hums a lull of stone,
Winding secrets it keeps alone.
Waves kiss the shore in rhythmic grace,
A heartbeat slow, a lover's pace.

Birdsong bursts with morning gold,
A hymn of life, both young and old.
Wind chimes made of branch and wing,
Nature's choir in endless spring.

Each sound a note in Earth’s great tune,
From dawn’s first light to hush of moon.
If you pause and lend your ear,
The wild will speak — and you'll hear.

Nice

 

[aniket22]

Love it

Thank you

 

[aniket22]

Nice

Thank you