Tags » Willow Tree

Garden Bench

Golden ochre steeped in time,
aged by every season’s crime,
twined through burnished lacquer’s rust,
recalling each last sunray’s lust,
and every blue jay’s call… 91 more words

Poetry

Canal rage

‘Twas a summer’s day and all was well.  The Fab Funky Ladies had had a lovely morning floating down the canal to Shardlow and feasted on delicious, gluten-free chips.  673 more words

Finding love in the struggle: a July day in Canada

The black asphalt, newly-laid, burns in the evening July sun, filling the air with a scorching smell. One garage door lifts to reveal a knot of men on stools. 506 more words

Daily Life

THE WEEPING WILLOW

A classic from my soppy Dad !

The Weeping Willow

The Willow tree weeps not, with it’s wilted green

like woven braid, hiding that which can’t be seen… 50 more words

POETRY