Willow Tree

by StoryWeaver13

Published February 16, 2010

In Poetry B.C.

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***An improv., like most of my poems, so not very good. Either way, please comment, and I'll return the favor. :) ***

I remember
A willow tree
Too tall for little me to see.
Her branches rocked
And cradled me soft
Her gentle touch
Of hanging branches aloft.
I see her now,
So tired she seems.
Lost and weary,
Paled by shadowed beams.
With broken limbs
And limp, gray leaves,
All hollowed out;
Her spirit grieves.
Oh willow tree
What happened to us?
Both once so young,
So willing to trust.
You do not weep,
Too tired for tears,
For we now see the creep
Of the impending years.
Broken, weary
I lie at your roots.
My toes wrap 'round the grass
As I take off my boots.
When did time
Come to pass?
I was child on my visit last.
Now I've grown
Enough to know
The world is pain
And you are sorrow.
Oh willow tree,
so broken are we.
When were we torn
By reality?

Comments & reviews · 4
User avatar
starlitmind
Review
starlitmind wrote a review Review · Jul 22, 2020

Hey there! Old poem, but has less than two reviews, so here I am :D
I love this! It's simple but that simpleness is what I really like about it. You've also managed to weave some beautiful imagery into it. I love the line "Paled by shadowed beams." for example. I also love the personification of the willow tree. And your line length is pretty consistent, which makes this nice to look at! I only have a few things I'd like to mention. These are just suggestions, so you don't have to listen to them if you don't want to!

The first thing I'd like to mention is stanzas. Right now, your poem is a block of text, which can look intimidating. It's also pretty long. I recommend dividing this into stanzas to make this an easier read. I've put one out of the many ways you could divide this in the spoiler below!

Spoiler
I remember
A willow tree
Too tall for little me to see.
Her branches rocked
And cradled me soft
Her gentle touch
Of hanging branches aloft.

I see her now,
So tired she seems.
Lost and weary,
Paled by shadowed beams.
With broken limbs
And limp, gray leaves,
All hollowed out;
Her spirit grieves.

Oh willow tree
What happened to us?
Both once so young,
So willing to trust.
You do not weep,
Too tired for tears,
For we now see the creep
Of the impending years.

Broken, weary
I lie at your roots.
My toes wrap 'round the grass
As I take off my boots.

When did time
Come to pass?
I was child on my visit last.
Now I've grown
Enough to know
The world is pain
And you are sorrow.

Oh willow tree,
so broken are we.
When were we torn
By reality?


But if you prefer no stanzas, then that's your choice! :D

The next thing I'd like to mention is capitalization. You capitalize the beginning of every line, but then you have one line that you don't capitalize

so broken are we.


I recommend remaining consistent in your capitalization, which you can easily do by capitalizing this line.

I was child on my visit last.


I think "I was a child on my visit last." sounds better.

I don't have much else to say about this! I think you did a good job with this poem; I think this piece works well with not too much imagery, because the simplicity really causes the reader to focus on the message. I hope this helped! <3

thedelphinater wrote a review Review · Feb 16, 2010

This was really good. I liked the idea behind it and the imagery, and I knew exactly what it was talking about. Just two little structural things I would suggest. First, you didn't really have a rhyme scheme. Now, it didn't make it that much harder to read or get a beat in my head, but having one would make the poem... nicer? I'm not sure how else to put it really. Second thing I would suggest would be to divide it into stanzas. Other than that, good job.

User avatar
Stori
Comment
Stori commented Comment · Feb 16, 2010

Good show! Oh, and we have the same name, Story. Imagine that!

When I was child on my visit last


This should be "When I was a child". Other than that
I didn't find any errors.



here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than the soul can home or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
— e.e. cummings