The Weeping WIllow, by xxdark7xx
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Standing tall,
A hundred years,
The wind whistling through its leaves,
Bringing music to my ears,
But only sadness to it's.
It's branches sway low,
As if to mourn,
In the moonlight,
Ghostly,
A restless spirit,
Waiting to be cliamed
By the morning sun...
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| Posted: 2008-03-31 02:07:43 UTC |
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| 2008-05-01 13:03:55 | Shika |
| I enjoyed this poem. Indeed willows do look very haunting. I think look like great bick tentacles ready to grab you out at you and pull you into their trunk at night! But in the morning, that illusion is gone. I think you captured that nicely in your prose! :-) |