Beneath the Old Oak Tree

• Beneath the old oak tree, where shadows dance and play,  
  I carved our names in memory, as the light begins to fade.  
  The whispers of the past call softly through the leaves,  
  A gentle sunrise warms the heart, though the night can’t help but grieve.  
  
  A fading memory of laughter, wrapped in the golden hues,  
  The restless stream flows on, reflecting all we lose.  
  I hear a hollow fiddle crying out for lost romance,  
  While echoes of a shattered past still invite us to a dance.  
  
  The distant flute floats lightly, like a sigh upon the breeze,  
  A melody of moments shared, in laughter and in ease.  
  We wandered through the meadows, where time slipped through our hands,  
  But every step we took away was all part of fate's grand plans.  
  
  So let the memories linger, let them guide us on our way,  
  For even as the years go by, the heart will always stay.  
  With every dawn's gentle whisper and every twilight's glow,  
  The love we built beneath that tree will always surely grow.  
  
  Now as I stand here waiting, the sun begins to rise,  
  I'll hold onto those fragments, where dreams and truth collide.  
  The future may be uncertain, like clouds that drift and sway,  
  But beneath the old oak tree, our love will find a way.

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Folk

Old oak tree, Fading memory, Gentle sunrise, Restless stream, Hollow fiddle, Shattered past, Distant flute