Your Weeping Willow


There is a pond near your back door. 

I am there; I've been there before. 


I'm always drawn to this spot,

When days are warm, and I am hot. 


To seek you out, or seek you not. 

From under your weeping willow. 


Creeping, sneaking, seeking, ...

… Leaking to find you out. 


Between each frond that gently sways,

By your pond in myriad ways. 


A mysterious creature in the leaves,

Catches me and my heart heaves. 


A sigh of shock, a sigh of peace,

Your nakedness is my release. 


For you are clothed by your pond,

With the swaying of each frond. 


Like the night hides your fear,


That is why I am here. 


To consummate on nature's pillow,

Down by your weeping willow. 


Touch me. 


Copyright 2002 ã Ronald W. Hull






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