Willegy

Oh willow tree, oh willow tree
As children we remember thee.
We mowed around your great big roots
And from your owls we heard loud hoots.

Endless leaves and boughs and sticks,
Every spring we were forced to pick
For hours on end. It seemed the norm
To curse those wretched Fall wind storms.
From young to old we climbed your arms
To realize, somewhat with alarm,
That though we climbed with great success,
We weren't as quick to find egress.

Those were the days; we sat up high,

Listening to thousands of little sighs;
As the wind caressed your every leaf
We put aside our every grief.

The years progressed and we grew old,

Our memories lapsed and thought grew cold.
We forgot you then. Until the end
When as you fell we thought "My friend!
How is it then? How can it be?
That I forgot my willow tree?
We may no longer prune and climb,
But forever you are our tree sublime!"

Now I must voice this elegy

Oh willow tree, Oh willow tree.
For though your boughs did droop and sweep,
'Tis not your name for which we weep.