Old Man Willow

Old Man Willow
How your arms hang low
Don't you care for the breeze
As it gently blows?
Spring is here
As Winter accepts its end
Now is the morn
Of your bloom again

Old Man Willow
Why are you sad?
Do you mourn the memory
Of summers you've had?
In your wisdom
Have you been able to see?
You are a symbol of beauty
One of God's creations
A tree

~THE FLOWING PEN~

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