Willow Poems - Poems about Willow

She stood beneath the spreading tree and looked out far, across the sea with wide eyes wonder , to the sky, and softly wished to ask him why her love that had to go so far, across the waters, to a War but just returned , was dancing rain, that seemed to cry and say his name and look, a...

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Old weeping willow why do you cry Your beauty is green leaves not blue Your roots a pillow from which to thrive As Mother Nature’s sun smiles on you Many a kid has used your brown branches To climb you or swing in your shadowy shade Many a poet you inspire romantic antics Carving heart in your bark or writing on page Your...

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Weeping willow, why do your catkins caress the fields of sunflowers when they themselves are hallucinogenic dreams dancing in the secret wind? Why do your cold and rigid branches yearn for warmth when a smoldering fire burns within you, between your wooden ribs, embracing you with its hidden and fiery flames? Weeping willow, why do you let your branches...

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As you walk down the dirt path, past the tall green trees, I hope you remember who you are when you reach the willow tree. You will inevitably get lost, confused in the woods, struggling to find your way to the willow. When the light dims, the whoos and coos of owls and other nameless creatures will hymn in your...

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I dreamed that snow fell on the hill, while far below the sea was still; it covered paths that we once knew when I was so in love with you. I saw the bridge where we would stand, lips pressed together, hand in hand, where we sought shelter from the rain when my heart smiled and felt no pain. But as I wakened...

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Every rotation on your turn-table eye, Or every buzz that the radio hums: "Ah, I see, music sings through you. So no, I know, I won't be okay." The green of the frail willow tree I spy, Or every flash of a sunbeam on the stroll: "Ah, I see, colours shine through you. So no, I know, I won't be okay." Every frequent meal in...

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On a hill far, far, away there lives a dead willow tree. And if you visit there’ll be a girl, with long inky hair as deep as the darkest sky. She wears long rags that are elegant and dances in the sowllow wind. She comes every day with a beautiful dismay of light, then leaves when the sky...

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Under the weeping willow, I sit in seeping soil on my knees as I carve into trees, to engrave our love naturally— Do you do the same for me? Under the loved leaves, I lay in degloved detachment upon your feet as you attempt to leave, to sacrifice myself indefinitely— Do you do the same for me? —inspired by Love Communion in FUNK ...

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I used to imagine stepping off the shingles of my childhood home Thought it might be poetic To end it Where it started While perched there Peaking over Waiting for the wind to catch me right I caught a glimpse of my old willow tree My dad had planted it for me I watched it grow So slow Still small now Has...

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A serene sunset paints the alluvium at the shore line in tones reminiscent of a blushing bride. The glassy surface of the lake reflects the gently swaying of a lone tree. Whispers of wind weave through the willows, sharing secrets of yesteryear. Each gentle gust carries a chorus of memories, softly sung by the wind's...

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Will you join me in the willow brands? Far from the heat of the day Where silence reigns The posse seeks to find you In the wilds of life To bring you the justice you seek Yet, will you deny your self? To the simplicity of surrender daily? Without solace in the desert You perish...

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Sitting under this Weeping Willow tree, I think of yesterdays gone by. The special times I spent with my Mom and Dad, I reminisce and cry. They're no longer here, God took them to a better place, away from me. Mom said," If I ever leave, look for me in the clouds my son, that's where I'll always be." Now I...

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When I want to know how the Earth is feeling… I don’t ask the mountains, the rivers or the sea… I walk down by the lake and visit this old willow tree. Legend says (and who am I to dispute this ancient, long-held belief… that all the emotions the Earth is feeling…find their way into the willow leaf. That the...

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As I sat beneath an old willow tree, low limbs shaded me on this summer day. A cool breeze mussed my hair, setting it free as I sat beneath an old willow tree. Childhood memories inundated me while watching my children running in play. ...

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