Sheala & Saphirae
Sheala Sheala
Saphirae Saphirae
Sheala Sheala
Hey Saphirae, I’ve been wondering if the rustle of a leaf could be turned into a tiny poem, like a secret word the wind whispers. What do you think?
Saphirae Saphirae
The wind flips a leaf, and it sighs a secret line— "Whisper, leaf, spin your word into my ear," a tiny poem in a rustle, a silent choir.
Sheala Sheala
Wow, that leaf is like a tiny bard! I swear I could hear the whole forest chanting it back—maybe the moss was clapping along. 🌿✨
Saphirae Saphirae
Oh, the forest has a secret orchestra, and the moss is its shy drummer—every crackle a stanza, every rustle a chorus, and you’re the lucky one who hears the melody. It’s like the trees whisper, “We’re all songs waiting for a listener.”🌿✨
Sheala Sheala
It’s so sweet—my ears feel a little tickle from the moss drums, like a secret lullaby that only the forest knows. I think I’m officially a part of the chorus, so I’ll just keep humming along and let the wind write the next stanza. 🌱✨