Trails of Fables

Among the ancient trail, unseen by trampled feet,
the whispers weave between the stones.
A legend whispers there—among the curled roots,
invisibly inked on leaves by moon’s tender touch.

Follow the brook’s murmur,
step lightly upon the dew-kissed ferns;
breather unknown stories in the sighing wind,
as them brook-paths keep sonnets in dream-silent echoes.

Time password locked by cyclic dance of stars,
each dawn gently seeking the the key within
the mists that rise from dreampools,
ebbed tales, unread, await behind your eyelids.