The Willow Tree
Beside a meandering river|
there stood a weeping willow tree.
If only willow tree
you could tell all your secrets to me.
Sadness beseeches me in your bosom
The lovers tryst on the day of the deep mist.
Your loneliness waves at them.
You're a broken hearted maiden,
your branches heavy laden
Yet not as much as in histories way.
That couple who took a picnic in your shade
and watched cricket being played.
Willow bat on cork ball
the sleeping maiden remembers it all.
© 2015 DavidRankinLymn
(All rights reserved)