A breath of fresh air,
is every breath,
when taken from under this tree.
Acting as a sun-lite canopy
and the wind will not fly by,
so ashes of lillies merely mingle in the air.

Under the weapings of this willow
a soft rain falls,
and we are thrilled.
Lakeside soil,
now a bed of small mishaps,
and the bark is our softest pillow.

It gets so dark,
drastically auburn,
when blue and orange skylines
fall as purple.
Now eyes of windows,
ears of seashells,
anticipate tonight's theater.
A special presentation on stars.