Her touch was like a willow tree,
Sweeping by,
Ticklish teasing,
Blowing with the breeze.
She liked to dance,
Like a hummingbirf,
Jumping jolly,
Under the tree.
The willow tree,
Is where I fell,
Under her spell,
The beautiful maid's.
She was my willow tree,
My hummingbird,
Dancig through the wind,
Always sweeping by.
And my willow tree and I,
Met underneath the tree,
To read our vows,
And touch our brows.
Us and the willow tree.
YOU ARE READING
The Book of Poems
PoetryThis is a compilation of poems that I have written. I am very proud of them and I ask that you please don't steal them. If you want to put one in one of your books for some unknown reason, let me know first. I'll tell you if you have permission. Als...
