The Willow Tree
A boy sat under the willow tree
He waited for his love
But his wondrous soul was, that, a soul
And in the raging storm and sea,
His love ne'er came to he
A girl sat under the willow tree
And waited for her love to come
And set her ethereal pain free
Her soul then burst
When her love was found cursed
The loves were lost and ne'er found
The hearts were frost and e'er bound
What of thou melancholy willow tree,
the Maiden asked the world
I, responded the willow tree,
I, and evermore, I.
How so, o hollowful willow tree?
How so o sorrowful willow tree?
- bettydorotheamarjorie -
YOU ARE READING
a letter made from ashes
PoetryThis is a collection of my innermost knife cutting thoughts, my deepest insecurities, my heartbreak, things that I have thought about but never dared say out loud. Things that would normally go in a burn book, things that might hit a chord in you, o...
