Be Willows that Sway
my heart was a small glad sparrow
which soared on a sonnet’s dulcet breeze
there stood in a dark and dreadful forest -
not stooping for anything -
old oaks with leafless limbs
Old cold oaks, so rigid and stern,
a sparrow’s heart they would slay.
No lesson from them do I learn -
for they neither bend nor sway.
give me bright meadows
where the trees delight in song
where trees can weep with feeling
and too. . . be willows that sway
April 21, 2018 for Broken Wing's "It's All About Four" Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2018