Step into her luxurios palace,
the modest shack under the willow tree,
her enormous fortune is easy to see,
for there are no expensive diamonds or pearls,
only the old willow tree.

Walk onto the grass,
gaze upon the mist tickled branches,
of the great, old willow tree at grandmother willow's,
climb up into the protecting nooks,
to sip tea with the ghost at grandmother willow's.

See her face, haunting and captivating the mind,
spine chilling, she brings memories of laughter,
memories of fear, memories of hope and love,
She blows a kiss, the cascading willow branches whisper kind
words.

The leaves rustle as wind hypnotizes,
the branches embrace the skin as she whispers,
lift up your head, dry your tears,
the wise, great, old willow is here,
sacrificing memories of the tea party at grandmother
willow's, 
Let peace and home be.....

© Copyright of Danielle Lewis