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THE WILLOW IN THE WIND
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JOURNAL#15 sunny days elapsed
though the grass would never bend
as the joys of childhood passed
on the reigns to my pending adulthood
I still remember 'The Willow In The Wind'
atop and over the yellowed onion elephant
grass of Papa's little rocky ridge
back behind the road leading to the old
mossy granite stone bridge
proudly grew the willow in the wind
many a story were handed down from proud
grandfathers to even more proud grand sons
about the magic filled branches every so green
and high
I, myself would climb for what seemed like
years
hoping like Grandma said that one could do
once at the top
why, one could almost look God himself in
the eye
but such sweetly told summer time tales
remain forever, simply just that
but still even today they can fill my hopeful
heart's sails
whenever I care to go back
and generously gaze upon
memories once so well spent
from playing among the proud, sturdy, old
branches and loving all the more
my wondrous perch of utter enchantment
'The Willow In The Wind'..................
(Oct. 12, 1996)
