Answer :
Answer:
In shadows cast by twilight's cloak,
Stands sentinel, the ancient oak.
Its branches reach, a sprawling maze,
In whispered tales of bygone days.
Beneath its boughs, a sanctuary lies,
Where whispered secrets softly rise.
Moss-clad roots clutch the earth below,
In silent strength, they ebb and flow.
Through seasons dance, its leaves transform,
A kaleidoscope in nature's storm.
From verdant green to fiery gold,
Each hue a story, silently told.
In the moon's embrace, it stands alone,
A stoic guardian, nature's throne.
With every rustle, a whispered plea,
To cherish the earth, to let it be.
Oh, noble oak, in your quiet might,
You stand as a beacon in the night.
A testament to time, a symbol true,
Of resilience and beauty, ever anew.
Explanation:
