Follow me down to the willow trees

Follow me down to the willow trees,
where we can sing and dance along with the bees;
With our youthful hands in the air, set your spirit free.

Run your hand along the bark ,
feel the power of the light and dark,
as the many years have entwined and left their mark.                                                                                                 

Behold the leaves as they cascade to the ground,
like lovers swaying, whispering, a sweet soft sound,
just like the hushed steps of the drowned.

Inhale deeply and smell the breeze,
the dirt, the flowers and the leaves.
Watch them as they weave

If we listen close we can hear,
the compassionate whispers from loved ones dear,
and the irate screams from moribund musketeers.

Taste the liquid and make a note,
of how it burns as it slides down your throat,
do you remember the dreams we once wrote.                                                                                                                             

How we would sit beneath the stars,
smoking their old cigars,
we would get married with tears in our eyes,
as someone else’s fireworks lit up the skies

And if by chance we lost our spark,
and our love began to turn dark,
we would sit together and watch,
the stars come out from their hidden notch

And as the sinking sun fell down,
we would find the magic,
to keep our dreams from disappearing deep drown;
we could save ourselves from something tragic.

So won’t you follow me down to the willow trees?
Where we can sing and dance along with the bees.
With our hands in the air, we’ll set our spirits free.

This poem is about: 
Me

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