The Willow

Here is a poem to start off the week,
in honor of my willow tree.
May she rest in peace.

The Willow

Beneath my willow tree,
I dream a fairy dream.
The whisper of a gentle song,
and I can hum along.

Beneath my willow tree,
the tickling branches sway.
The weeping arms
in shadows play,
and I can drift away.

Beneath my willow tree,
quite hidden,
soul unseen.
The rhythmic pulse
of night descends,
and I can find
sweet peace within.
Beneath my willow tree.

Angela Minard 2007