The Ghosts of the Old Oak Poem

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In the woods, where silence spoke,
Stood a tree, a grand old oak.
Its branches crooked, leaves now shed,
Beneath its boughs, the spirits tread.
Ghosts of yore, with tales untold,
Whispered secrets, dark and bold.
Their voices echoed in the breeze,
Carrying whispers through the trees.
Legends of battles long ago,
Love lost, and treasures below.
Their sorrow hung in the air,
A haunting melody, a mournful prayer.
But those who listened with open heart,
Found solace in the ghosts' impart.
For in their stories, wisdom dwelt,
Of lessons learned and truths unfelt.
So, if you dare, approach with care,
The ghosts of the old oak, unaware.
Listen close, and you may find,
Answers to questions of heart and mind.