Beneath a Willow Tree
How oft we loved beneath a verdant weeping willow tree,
Your divine vibrant voice of soft tone whispering a dream,
How happy we were, as you rested your head on my knee,
Listening to migrant warblers composing songs and to
The rustle of fragrant leaves drooping down onto the stream.
How dulcet your hymns as you declared “I love you, I do.”
But time passed in such a quick tempo leaving us so old.
Barren branches of a willow tree die, it's life's old theme.
Thus, you died on me, and I feel lonely, restless and cold.
I yearn for death, but like the willow, life has its own scheme.
18 January 2021
POTD
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