All of the memories,
flooding back to my mind.
Are as gentle as the breeze,
while they play in rewind.
There were so many,
spent down by the lakeside.
I remember the tree,
where we would always hide.
As I'm reminiscing,
I think back to that time.
We often went missing,
for our chance to go climb.
We spent all of our youth
in that tree, as it seems.
Always talking our truth,
and all about our dreams.
I did love that Willow,
with all the weeping leaves.
Her branch like a pillow,
or so a child believes.
Although you are gone now,
your memory still keeps,
alive inside the bough
of the Willow that weeps...
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