Willow branches, weeping low,
shed no tears for me,
shading lovers who once sat beneath,
the brushes of your tree.
Buried within your thickened bark,
the sounds of love's first kiss,
hold those moments deep within,
do nothing more than this.
One day I'll revisit your secrets,
and sit under your green leafs shade,
listening to the whisper of lovers,
a melody that first blush of your branches saved.
By: Linda Winchell And Ash es
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem