Singing Barbara's Willow Song Poem by Ronel Holtz

as the old maid Barbara perhaps,
mine verse and
prose sing willow to the scorn of untrue heart
singing all a green
with mine willow garland
knowing full well that the path hath
double crossed it self
with mine hand on my breast and also mine
head on knee
i watch the brook gabling over rock under this here
willow tree
and old thing ’’twas indeed this lady's caring
heart
to watch this man,
die by his own sword
even in full
moon night
so sinister M'Lord that wolves stay silent
so that
the full moon may howl to glee
it is within power of witches
broil
to heel thee once again
but why?
as Macbeth proved in
darkest darkened night
non can save the weak
but thine
self
indeed thine sin is not anew
nor exclusive to thine
soul
in lust full deed, or even perhaps love
lies the weakness
of ones soul
the brittleness of own self bones
that the
heartless can break with little effort
if only salt tears could
soften stone
like merry brooks wash away unseen pain
but alas,
paths cross themselves
to walk over thine traveller that
travelled with harshness
over gentle grass
to undo the boiling
of the pot
wouldn’t you agree cannot be
even eyes crying in
regret
cannot undo starless night
to go hang my head all at
one side,
And sing it like poor Barbara
will not change mere
fact
she died singing woe
a song of 'willow