The tree of verses

In a secluded place there was a tree whose leaves were verses, its branches stanzas, and its trunk a living metaphor.

Every night, its poems came to life and danced in the wind, captivating all the hearts that listened to them.

One night, as the moon shed its silvery light, a rhyme escaped from the tree and into the darkness.

It was the bravest rhyme, the one that defied the night with its brightness.

It travelled through streets of consonance and chords, crossing a river of similes and arriving at a garden of images.

There, she met an enchanting metonymy called Isabela, whose eyes were metaphors reflecting moonbeams.

Rhyme and metonymy looked at each other, and in that instant, time stood still.

Their words intertwined in an alliteration of emotions, creating a sonnet of love in each sigh.

The stars, witnesses of that poetic encounter, guided the literary lovers along a path of synaesthesia and anaphora.

Together, they explored the vast universe of literary figures, where each word was a brushstroke of colour and each verse a fragment of melody.

Thus, in that small corner of the world, rhyme and metonymy found their own story, where literary figures intertwined like threads of a captivating plot.

And from that day on, the tree of words continued to create poetry, inspiring hearts to dream with verse and dance with metaphor at every literary dawn.