The Weeping Willow Tree Poem by meghan foubare

The weeping willow at the southern estate in the Georgia Plantation,
blows the leaves around softly during the night on the top of the hill.
Waiting for somebody to come sit under its barnches,
Feeling a sudden whistle wipping in the wind.
Suddenly the leaves feel the texture of a sweet childs hand,
A lost child becoming cold, and afraid of the rains to come.
In a way the child feels safe under its barnches covering him.
Covering him from the mysteries of the outside night life, and wipping winds all around him in the dead of night.
Falling fast asleep until morning everything is washed away and wet,
But the only thing that is dry is the dirt and grass around him under the tree that surrounds him.
The Breeze is good, the sweet boy feels safe enough to leave from the care of the Weeping willow tree!