
In rushing winds
the willow bends
She heaves a sigh
and tries to fend
away the gale
tries not to fail
and let them
pull her down
It rustles deeply
waving now
whispering softly
she takes her bow
and all goes still
a moment somehow
a fading moment
a silent poet
a mother with many cares
beneath her branches
she remembers
all of her long years
The lake by which she stands
reflects her waving hands
and shows the sorry sight
this tree in its poor plight
She cries and says goodbye
surrenders to the wind
and like a mothers sigh
she knows that she must die
and leave all this
behind
This is really good. Definitely one of your best so far.
I like how it moves quickly, and you don't find yourself lost in the words themselves but rather in the image created by the words.
Thanks everyone.
I like how it moves quickly, and you don't find yourself lost in the words themselves but rather in the image created by the words.
That's really great to hear, because I was hoping it would be read and comprehended that way. :D
Beautiful! I like it! :o)