| "The Willow and the Wind" |
Alone by the river she stands there Her branches pushed up from the base, What once was a seedling transplanted Is a monolith now in it's place. Her limbs drape over the water And drinks from the pool down below, Shes nourished by ground rich and fertile For many a years she has grown. She's a tree so tall and inviting Her shade is a summer retreat, She welcomes an afternoon picnic And offers relief from the heat. If the willow could create music It would have to be violin, And the wind, a bow played upon it A symphony that plays to no end. Like playmates from early beginnings The wind rustles over the tree, It ripples her leaves as she's tickled And welcomes a kiss from the breeze. And as they create summer music The willow to dance with the wind, The days and the nights will be splendor And they couldnt imagine an end. For right from the very beginning The wind was a friend to the tree, Through seasons both long and bitter together forever they'd be. As the shadows fall long on the water A season now withers away, The wind carries change of the Autumn And the light gets shorter each day. Continued >>>>>>>>>>>>>> |
The willow sinks slow to remission Her leaves changing colors to die, The wind whispers softly no longer There's an ominous look to the sky. As the wind undresses the willow Like a maiden before her prince, The season has called her to slumber And the wind will stand her defense. Deep in her sleep of the winter The wind never leaves her side, It pushes the snow from her branches The time it will have to abide. Through long lonely nights you can hear it The wind whistles soft through the tree, A sad song of cold isolation And wishes of what were to be. The rains of the winter are brutal The ice holds hard in the cold, It freezes the limbs of the willow Winters death has taken hold. The wind in a fury of anger Pushes hard against the ice, But winter wont relinquish its victim It grips her like an unyielding vice. The wind whips hard all around her In an effort to set her free, But the winter has claimed her as victim Hence the fall of the mighty tree. Now down on the ground she is broken The wind only whispers to cry, The song of the wind and the willow With the tree, the music dies. So when you hear the wind howling lonely As your head sinks deep in your pillow, Rememeber the story as written Of the dance of the Wind and the Willow. Jerry Williams 8/8/2003 |
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