Legend of the Lone Oak

In a vale where whispers wade,

Stood a lone oak, strong and staid.

Legends of its roots did weave,

In the hearts of those who'd grieve.

Once it shaded lovers' dreams,

And absorbed their whispered schemes.

All alone through storm and calm,

Standing there with stoic charm.

Seasons came and seasons passed,

Yet the oak endured to last.

In the silence, tales it held,

Of the hearts that once had swelled.

Legends of the lone oak spread,

By the birds whose tears were shed.

For in its boughs, they'd found repose,

In the shade of its embrace close.

Now it stands a beacon bright,

For the wanderers of the night.

In its quiet, strength does lie,

A lone oak reaching for the sky.