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jonni inferno Jul 28
i met her    
in a waking dream    
as i walked beside    
the sylvar stream    
whose chattering laughter    
shifted suddenly    
into a sylvar pool    
of enchanted silence    
a mirrored glaze    
in muted    
misty
dawning rays    
    
her cascading mane    
a crimson flare    
sea-green eyes    
alluring stare    
my heart stopped    
to see her there    
reposed    
'pon a verdant garden lee 
beside    
the misting sylvar mere    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
dahlia lips    
whispering desire    
vermilion plunder splayed    
spellbound 
by her charms    
heart pounding    
thundering    
captured    
i stay    
an' wi' faire
lithesome beauty lay    
'pon a lush an' vibrant field    
beside    
the misting sylvar mere    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
we lay there    
lost in time    
locked    
in the silence 
of kindred minds    
an' i knew her name    
tho she spoke it not    
sipped i then
the misty morning dew    
from precious lips
that from me drew    
all that i    
ever thought    
or felt    
or knew
'pon the grasses lush and green    
beside    
the softly glowing mere    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
soft sings    
the whippoorwill    
the meadowlark    
an' mourning dove    
their voices weaving spells    
for lover's yearning hearts    
in the meadow    
by the way    
where my love an' i    
do lay    
entwined  
'pon the gleaming sylvan shore    
beside    
the shining crystal lake    
'neath
the weeping willow trees    
    
alas    
the dawning days    
were passing
when came malevolence    
within
a thund'ring tempest    
lightnings flashed
in ragged gashes
'cross the heaven's    
stygian passes
an' from those
gnawing caverns
spewed
a raging
howling
demon's brood
an' down flew they
by the sylvar stream
where my love
and i
entranced
did lay
beside
the mystic sylvar lake
'neath
the weeping willow trees
    
then from my arms    
vile creatures tore    
my lifesong    
my heart's blood    
my one    
and only love
her scintillating form    
they ripped    
her silent
piercing cries    
bleeding    
thru my soul
an' took her they  
far from this    
battered    
desert shore    
as her soundless    
painful    
chorus fades    
an' leaves me
here alone    
to lay    
'pon these shifting lifeless sands    
beside    
this sylvar lake of tears    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
the meadowlark    
her spellsong sings    
thru ebon winter's    
weathering    
the silver stream    
her laughter froze    
this heart    
once fire    
a soulless stone    
    
so now this raven
winged    
doth fly
to scour the bruised    
an' shadowed skies    
to find my dove    
an' bring her home    
to lay
'pon these frozen brittle stones
beside
the darkened sylvar tarn
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
thru timeless age    
an' dangerous realms    
i followed    
her silent    
morbid    
ravenings    
as her grisly    
mewling pleas    
hollowed out my soul    
'til at last    
i found her    
chained an' bound    
lost    
deep within    
peculiar planes    
an' baneful realms    
far from    
the laughing sylvar stream    
far from    
the weeping willow trees    
    
her lament    
of bitter tears    
an' fear    
sliced    
thru my defenses    
a doomed    
pernicious heart    
she was    
wandering    
thru deepest depths    
where madness reigns    
all hope destroyed    
****'s minions    
reveled
unconstrained    
    
my dove    
called i    
my love    
'tis i    
once more    
thrice more  
time  
and time again    
till finally    
she hearkened    
to my voice    
    
true love    
recall us    
you and i    
dancing    
thru ageless realms    
consider us    
twirling    
under heaven's wings    
she
spinning
at my fingertips

an' i  
drew her then    
breathless    
into my arms    
ambrosia lips    
her sweet alms    
from her dark pain    
i did drink    
of her    
malignant sorrow    
i did partake  
my questing    
thirsting hunger    
willingly  
did i sate  
gathering all    
her shattered pieces    
from those altered    
blighted    
reaches
    
chains    
now broken    
i carried her
'pon wings    
of true love's    
sylvar light    
far from    
these darksworn legions    
into    
the dawning night's    
farthest regions    
    
an' there    
close by    
the laughing    
whispering    
sylvar stream    
lay her gently    
'pon the verdant flowing shore    
beside
our gleaming slyvar mere    
'neath    
our weeping willow trees    
    
under glimmering    
starlit heavens    
sing    
the whippoorwill    
the meadowlark    
an' mourning dove    
whose soulful songs    
compose    
for yearning lovers    
charms of hope    
where pools    
the laughing    
sylvar stream    
whose mirrored gaze    
draws us deep within    
celestial    
starlit    
wanderings    
  
as the wind    
whispering
sighs    
thru our hearts  
as we lay entwined    
'pon a verdant garden lee    
beside  
our misting sylvar mere    
'neath  
our silent    
weeping  
willow trees    
      
p j upchurch
s  Oct 2016
willow tree
s Oct 2016
We used to swing under the big willow tree
We lived 3 doors down from each other
We were princess who fought dragons
We could save the kingdom and find our prince by lunch time
Our moms laughed and talked about how cute we were
Four years old was a cute age

Fast forward a bit
We went into elementary school innocent and young
Boys had cooties
Girls had cooties
Kickball always ended with someone getting hit in the face
We would always sit out feild and pick grass and shape it into a little birds nest
Life was good
Until your parents started fighting and I mean really fighting.
It scared me and I would have to go home
I would make you come with me
three doors down
Our moms didn’t laugh anymore
By Christmas break your parents were broken up and divorced
Eight years old was a confusing age

Junior high was mean.
Girls would rip you to shreds and then hang pieces of you on everyone’s lockers
Boys just wanted to make out
A whirlwind of uncontrolled hormones
We were the quiet ones
Always flew under the radar
Just trying to make it out alive
We found a little spot to each lunch under the stairs where no one would go
We giggled and talked about boys who didn’t even know that we existed
I remember crying in the bathroom with you because people were brutal and we weren’t good enough
Our moms worried about us and how distant we were becoming
Thirteen years old was a sad age

Highschool is another story
You were put in the hospital for a month
I was left at school alone
I had to find more friends
I found most of them were fake
So I ate my lunch in a bathroom stall
Reading all the swear words that were carved in the wall
You were really sick and we grew apart
We were always close
We will always love each other
You tried to save me from myself
But I didn’t let you
Seventeen was an important age

Now we are at different colleges
I tried to **** myself while you were getting an A on your anatomy test
It’s sad
We don’t swing under the big willow tree or fight dragons anymore
Our moms hardly talk
You are a success
and I am a failure
We don’t really mesh
I miss you every day
I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you
We were princesses who lived three doors down, we saved the kingdom.
I love you
I’m sorry this has faded
Just like everything else
Nineteen years old is a dying age.
Really just a story
writerReader  Jan 2015
Gone
writerReader Jan 2015
When I'm gone
will my name be
pressed against
the
stars.
Will
my tears grow
a willow tree filled with
twinkling lights?
Alysia Marie  Oct 5
Willow
Alysia Marie Oct 5
“..And just like that,
Emotions shifted faster than the changing seasons-
Undoubtedly as the leaves did on my favorite tree,
I seemed to be falling-
Falling a little bit more in love with you during each passing day,
But unlike the trees and the seasons-
I don’t see an end to this decent...”


                                  Alysia Marie 2018 ©
It wasn’t until him- that I was able to write about the joys of love
em Feb 15
I had never liked my name until i heard you say it.
Watching the syllables roll off your lips while they slip into a smile is equivalent to watching our hometown pass away through an open window,
the serene sensation of the wind blowing through my hair,
and blowing away the person i used to be.
You found the words to erase the self-portrait my brush always seemed to repaint,
no matter how hard i tried to change the ending.

When i asked you what your favourite food was, you said it was just dinner-
home cooked chicken and potatoes.
You said it reminded you of the easier days when a sunburn after a day at the beach was the worst thing that could ever happen to you.

On the night that was the very beginning of the rest of our lives,
In that moonlit cabin,
I realized i would be happy passing my days just listening to you talk.
Sara Kellie Jul 24
Promise me, my flesh you'll place
'neath a fledgling willow tree.
And as it grows toward blue sky,
It's in its grace you'll hear me cry.
Laden with the heaviest fears,
resembling, reflecting
my darkest years.

A fragile bone was once my arm,
so likened to the willows charm.
It's branches delicate,
could ne'er do harm.
It's soft and fluffy hand like bud,
encased in skin, the willow's wood.

Hold its hand at branches end.
My message, a vibration,
to you I'll send.
Until the death of said willow tree,
reminding you . . . . .
. . . . . . always of me.

Poetry by Kaydee.
The tired and deathly willow tree with stories to tell of debutantes, swinging
before entering ****.
SassyJ Aug 8
He is like those grains in the sand
those that disperse and get blown away
in unsteady stances, unfair hunches
and the point is.... "you don't turn my mind"
in the caskets of your stored emotional
where a connection is jarred and jammed
such a physical distaste and stirred responses
and besides that, the gods must be in the know
ohh...may be the wind that turn into the spring
will turn me on to a mountain of dreams
then the rains will wash and touch me deep
until my feelings tickle me to the flow
that’s the time I would be free to make love
holding hands by the dimmed candle lights
kissing under the bloom of the weeping willow tree
beside other lovers who will be mesmerized
by the flight of the need, the fight as agreed
and the season will capture the realness of love
By the willow which senses our wishes,
Detachments heap toward demise,
For the old sea of Mercury hints at bewitchment, though tethers are lesser the wise.
And the harbor of Mercury sighs.

Young passengers tremble no bolder than gravel
Across a toxic sea of ore.
When rocks under wood is least understood, the metal seeps in and unravels like thieves,
Disassembling all future travels.

A ship will be safe in a harbor,
Though not what a ship is for—
But one island lies, mining trust from none wise.
Promised safety away from the storm,
Or the turbulent tides that roar.

I saw the passengers, lasses and lads, the latter regaling some lore,
From beyond some forgotten yore.
And the willow adjourned in a sacrosanct form
Once their stories were spoken no more.
Just a first draft, may give a more conclusive ending in the future. Would love to know your thoughts
the Silence became
like an old lesson learned

a broken heart intones
a voiceless song
resonating a refrain of Silent echoes
in a voice that never heard a word
yet spoke so clearly ... lingering
in realms of subtle ambiance

soundless remnants
stacked neatly as
building blocks;  
another brick in a wall,
already too tall to see beyond—
growing like a bunker
without a sense of safe harbor

as the Silence became
time and space,
a stillness beset the melancholy air
as if a world without song
foreboding an unpredictable storm
beget vestiges of broken windfall
reticent leftovers hushed after a gale

s i l e n t l y
an acorn fallen  — became a mighty Oak

a wind-broke twig — became a weeping willow

a neglected child — became mother nature's son

the Silence became
        a blind prophet —
in its voice held forth
smatterings of truth
and undertones of a fool’s hope

the Silence became
a strong, abrupt rush of wind
uttering voiceless exhalations of breath;
a hovering dawn mist
    befallen after a summer storm—
surrounding all in all
bedewed in a feigned peace


... the unabated sounds of silence
become


Jesse Stillwater ... July 20th, 2018
Thank you or reading —
Matt Shade Sep 2015
In our fall we were wild and wise
And reason was worn to our childish eyes
But that season has quickly come to pass
And a bitter wind now shakes the grass.
I have a blanket to wrap you in
Let the sun sleep, and the world not spin
Place your heart now on my pillow
Wrapped in the roots of this weathered willow
Wonder up into its rustling leaves
And rest your head on times simpler than these.
heard a voice as i died
in the cold moonlight
forty phantoms
breathing through me
and this wasted life
goes on too long

these willow trees
court lesser demons
and condemn the rest
these weeping hosts
hold the shape of dusk
and i fall to my knees

piano from the dark
of a mystic chord
i froze and woke in tandem
with the underscore
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