Poetry collection

Willow tree

In yonder meadow, where the moonlight gleams,
Stands a willow tree, lost in sorrow's streams.
Its branches weep, as if burdened by woe,
A tragic tale of love it longs to bestow.
Beneath its boughs, a lover once did wait,
His heart aflame, his soul consumed by fate.
But cruel Time played tricks upon their love,
And tore them apart like a hand from a glove.
Oh, willow tree, witness of their despair,
Whisper their story upon the midnight air.
For in your branches lies their shattered dreams,
A haunting lament that forever redeems.
Now the willow stands alone and forlorn,
Its tears still falling since that fateful morn.
A symbol of love lost and hearts undone,
Forever weeping 'neath the pale moon's sun.
So let us mourn for this tragic affair,
The lovers entwined in eternal despair.
And may the willow's branches ever sway,
To remind us of love's bittersweet ballet.