Sad Willow Tree Poems | Examples
These Sad Willow Tree poems are examples of Willow Tree poems about Sad. These are the best examples of Willow Tree Sad poems written by international poets.
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 this colourless place,
Or a willing treat if I'm likely to steal:
"Ah, I see, sweetness comes with you.
So no, I know,
I won't be okay."
Every second I spend counting hours away
Or hours I spend counting days:
"Ah, I see, my time should be with you.
So no, I know,
I can't see you though.
No, I know,
I won't be okay."
I don't know whether she's still there.
And nor do I really know why I even care.
For so many years she never crossed my mind.
But Daddy always taught me not to be the
forgetting kind. It would be nice to see her being
gently touched by the wind as she weeps painlessly.
An old weeping willow tree arrested my thoughts today
after many years. There was nothing sad enough about
the thought that grew a tear but, in my heart, I feared that
the willow tree may have met her demise. In my memory,
I saw her as stable and strong, a coveted shade provider at
the time. Back when I was just a boy, she seemed older than
the house in whose yard she grew. I remember her well, a striking
site ascending in fields of cotton, not far from a lovely pond popular
with ducks. Perhaps one day on a leisurely drive with my lifelong bride,
I shall ascertain her present status. And only then shall I be satisfied.
060223PS
Beneath that old willow tree let me lie,
Many life secrets it is securely keeping
Of years long before I thought to die
The old willow tree was often weeping.
When as a young child, I lay sad beneath,
When my true love lay cradled sleeping,
When I came home much, much too high,
Or feared the worst, oh, I am creeping
Beneath that old willow tree, let me lie
Then, I shall feel at home...when I die.
Written July 7, 2021
For "The Last Dance" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
Willow tree wisdom is the best therapy I have found.
She instills you with advice from her roots underground.
Easy, and fast, and makes you feel surprisingly good.
There is no softer touch or gentler listening wood.
You sit under her, and you pour out your sad little heart.
Sharing your pain with her is truly exceedingly smart.
She keeps your confidence, tells no other person or tree.
She gives you soothing permission to share all with thee.
You can rant and rave, and she keeps it forever to herself.
She keeps it up high, on a long forgotten cannot-reach shelf.
You may sit as long as you want, feeling unconditional love.
Willow tree wisdom comes straight from the good Lord above.
Wait, you lament. I do not have a willow. That is no problem at all.
Oak, elm, weeping almond, or even a sequoia a million feet tall.
Will do in a pinch. They all keep a confidence. They are all very good.
They will throw you His love in the form of twinkly leaves and listening wood.
Many thoughts run through my mind.
Thoughts so intense..
Thoughts so deep..
I sit here and ponder ..
Under the willow tree
Many fears have gradually appeared ..
Fearful forces had entered my domain..
Somber moments covered in states of melancholy
A cascading waterfall of emotions had arrived to the surface..
Sadness accompanied by pain swimming along the cascading waterfalls..
One teardrop fell slowly down my cheek..
My lip moistened by its residue..
A slight taste of salt from the aftermath of my tears..
Surrounded in lush emerald green landscapes..
Along the beauty of Mother Nature..
I had buried my pain inside myself..
Deep down inside..
I seeked to find solace..
I had found it..
It had never abandoned me..
Through my darkest moments..
My domain lies under the willow tree
The weeping willow tree..
Had wepted along with me..
Lovely weeping willow tree had shed a bright light..
I had been lifted..
I had been comforted..
We had both shared pain..
Together as one..
Stones stand erect like sentries keeping guard
as I walk alone, with tear in my eye,
through this deserted cemetery yard.
In the back corner stands my father’s grave;
I sadly reminisce the days gone by,
and all the memories my mind does save.
Robbed by old age, my father’s mind was shut;
upper tree branches left to question why.
Strong and sturdy the lower branches, but
barren branches of a willow tree die.
June 11, 2018
Contest: Rhyme Time 4 - 10 Lines
Sponsor: Laura Loo
BARREN BRANCHES OF A WILLOW TREE DIE
Barren branches of a willow tree die
Sadly enough, they can no longer cry
Barren branches of a willow tree die
We watch in desperation hoping for life
Sadly enough, they can no longer cry
We watch in desperation hoping for life
These tall stately trees are filled with strife
No tender loving care can change their plight
These tall stately trees are filled with strife
Sadly enough, they can no longer cry
8 June 2018
For the contest sponsored by Laura Loo
The willow tree wrapped you in its dark embrace.
Bark had kissed your shell like a dagger.
Emerald leaves stitched a new grace.
Rain fell that day, tearful with its stagger.
You wanted to blend, but it made a trace.
This transparency you left made my world shatter.
May the doves make your soul fly once again dear.
My dreams want you to be adorned in much cheer.
(Written on June 29th, 2017 for Janis Thompson's Ottava Rima Contest)
The weeping willow tree
Stands yonder sad and old,
In hundred winters he
Withstood the tempests cold.
Long since his sons and sires
Forelore the Earth profane,
Were burnt in funeral pyres,
And all his kinsmen’s train.
When wintry gales all things
Smite with their downy snows,
The Nightingale still sings,
That through the willow flows.
His sobbing I have heard
In murmuring high bough,
Whom asked the lonely bird,
Wherefore weepest thou?
13th May, 2017
The weeping willow is outside you see
Even though it is beautiful it wasn't meant to be,
Our willow is huge and hangs to the ground
When the wind blows you hear it all around,
It's beauty is timeless and very much alive
But, on a sad note it is not wanting to survive,
It will be sad to see an empty space
Till the new tree we plant that will take its place,
The weeping willow will definitely be gone
I am sure late at night you will hear its song,
Weeping and crying for all of us to hear
Because after all the roots are left that will shed its tears.
Written By: Unique Poetry 2010
shady weeping willow tree
grace brushes the canopy
sullen branches seek comfort
from lovers below
yester year echoes sweetly
through the branches hanging low
each leaflet holds my sorrow
dew drops are my tears
my father's tree weeps for me
sweeping branches touch my heart
once, you held a young man's dreams
now, you bring solace
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
dedicated to my dad, John F. Johnson, Jr (1949-2002)
The Weeping Willow was his favorite tree
First place in No Name/Any Form 14 Max contest
Stopped by my old home town
a while back,
when I spotted an old
friend of mine, just
a lonely weeping willow tree.
Remembering days as a young
child, when I would climb this
old tree and resting under it
during long hot summer days.
The house where we once lived,
was nowhere to be seen.
Only a large hole in the ground,
where it once stood.
Watching this tree from my bedroom
each night before falling into a deep sleep,
while taking in the cool summer air, was such
a thrill for me.
Got into my car and drove away,
feeling a little better, but yet so sad,
this old weeping willow tree brought back a lot of
good memories, as I drove out of town and back home,
where I belonged.
Written 5-12-11
Like the willow tree,
I'm of narrow, slender twigs.
Thin and sad- we are.