I will lie within her boughs
Inflection of her crying tones
Whilst not bother me
Art thou not a sanctuary to many?So what say you of your moan?
Slender in your parasol of branches
Say not I feel for you
Articulate to the breeze that enfolds you
Remain with me here tranquil, poignant
May my lure compel you?
Vex not, thou subsist not for thyself
What then say you?Is the secret to your weep?
Christened are you not…
The weeping willow
Copyright 2013 Wandering Satellite Publishing