The Valley of Rustling Leaves: A Symphony of Life and Passing Time

The only way to find new horizons is to keep riding toward the setting sun.

In the valley where the tall trees sway,

A symphony of leaves begins to play.

Their whispers tell of stories spun,

Of time that flows like a river run.

The sun breaks through the morning mist,

As cowboys ride, with sun-kissed wrists.

Hoofbeats dance on the forest floor,

While nature sings in harmonies core.

Golden hues paint the edges bright,

As shadows stretch in the fading light.

With every gust, a melody weaves,

In the rustling hush, the heart believes.

When twilight drapes its velvet cloak,

Campfire tales in the air evoke.

Life and passing time, a seamless thread,

In the valley of leaves where dreams are fed.