~Shades of Gold~

You Mustn't Weep My Willow.

You awoke at dawn and begun to weep.
Don't weep my pretty, go to sleep.
The sky cried with you, so hush your tears,
The sky shan't be blue till the dark cloud clears.

You opened your arms for someone,
That someone was my beloved son.
You were his sheild from the pattering rain,
You kept my pretty boy from any pain.

My bothered husband bought an axe.
He placed the sharp blade in one of our shacks.
He told me no reason of owning the blade,
Oh, how I wish I would've stayed.

It was that one promising, yet muggy afternoon,
The evening resting on the end of June.
I watched from my bedroom window,
As my husband of many years walked very slow.

He trudged along the mowed lawn,
His ordinary bright smile, now gone.
He retrieved the sharp axe from the shed,
My mind began to fill with much dread.

My husband walked over to you, My Willow.
Axe in hand, he went to deliver the first blow.
I jumped from my bed in attempt to stop,
As my husband began to swing and chop.

I yelled his name across the fog,
My legs started in a quick jog.
It was to late for you, My favorite Tree,
Your pretty leaves not anymore to be.

You collapsed to the ground, seeming to cry.
I fell with you, My Willow, for I didn't say bye.
I screamed at my husband, cried to my son;
For a Willow Tree? There is none.

You mustn't weep, My Willow;
For I am crying into my pillow.
My son gave me the greatest gift of all.
A little sapling of you, ever so small.

It doesn't replace,
Your everlasting grace.
You have done your duty;
My Weeping Willow of beauty.