I Swung From the Willow

I swung from the willow,
so careless and free;
from ground to air,
her strong branches carried me.

In the shade of the willow,
our secrets we shared;
two best friends just sitting,
all frustrations were aired.

We met at the willow,
and smiled as we talked;
somehow we returned there,
whenever we walked.

The willow meant comfort,
a safe place to rest;
all who walked there,
they were her guest.

I took my son to the willow,
and let him have a swing;
all the happy memories,
she did once again bring.

I walked down by the river,
just to see my old friend;
I wasn’t nearly prepared,
for what I saw as I rounded the bend.

The willow was gone,
just bare ground in her place;
all her friends also gone,
no longer standing in grace.

The walk seemed more lonely,
without my friend willow, there;
the scent of the trees,
no longer hang in the air.

As long as I live,
when my head rests on my pillow;
I will always remember,
how I swung from the willow.

© Leslie C Dobson

If you liked this poem, you can find additional ones on the poetry page of my website.