The Weeping WIllow

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By xxdark7xx •

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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May 1, 2008 13:03Shika

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! :-)