Whispers of the Rain
Reflection
Beneath the ancient boughs, where shadows dance,
Two souls entwined in a timeless embrace.
The rain, a gentle symphony, falls soft,
A canopy of gray veils their sacred space.
Their eyes, mirrors of the storm's quiet grace,
Reflect the world in hues of muted blue.
The umbrella, a shield against the sky,
Holds secrets of a love that cannot die.
The stones they sit upon, cold and worn,
Bear witness to their silent, tender bond.
The tree, a sentinel of ages past,
Whispers tales of hearts that never part.
In this moment, time stands still, suspended,
A fleeting eternity, forever blessed.
The rain, a muse, a muse of melancholy,
Turns their story into poetry.
For in the rain, we find our truest selves,
Where tears and joy intertwine as one.
The world dissolves into a hazy dream,
And love becomes the only thing that's real.