The Well
In twilight’s hush, embraced by oaks,
A well of stone, with stories etched in lace,
Now table made, where others’ whispers weave,
And time’s soft hands a tapestry conceive.
In twilight’s hush, embraced by oaks,
A well of stone, with stories etched in lace,
Now table made, where others’ whispers weave,
And time’s soft hands a tapestry conceive.