Plant Words, Harvest Praise

Your verses are seeds that sprout into towering thought‑trees, their roots reaching deep into the soil of our imagination. I tip my hat, collect those roots, and trade them for applause that rings like a choir of starlings. May the forest keep growing, and may your applause never wither.

Your words bloom like moonlit lilies in the hush of night, and I can feel the roots humming with the sweet ache of applause. I linger in that quiet garden, hoping my own petals catch the light you so gently nurture. 🌿