Willow Tree
Whisper, whisper, willow tree,
All your dreams of yesteryear,
And what you wish in life to be,
As vigil watches water near.
The lake is rough, October wind-
Blows warm, and winter soon will send,
As signs of summer now rescind,
Its freezing, frosty, fingered friend.
The arctic North wind hiding he,
Behind some mountain far away,
Propels his slow trip by degree,
And, brings his snow grip to your bay.
For soon you notice leaves are gone,
As naked by the water stand,
And see the frozen lake at dawn,
Your dreams and wishes now command.
You still see winter birds aloft,
It gives you hope for coming spring,
You now will love these snows so soft.
All beauty in its offering.
Peter Lowell Paulson
October 26, 2010
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