Sleeping Willow
Grandpa, are you sleeping?
There is sunshine on the meadow
and pretty flowers colourfully thrown.
There’s a lady who walks with us
to your place beneath the willow
where young men’s dreams will never be outgrown.
The lady, she is Beauty,
she is Hope and Inspiration
she wears the ragged robin in her hair,
in her train we skip through woodlands
where she paints imaginations
with light and shade and free, abundant air.
Grandpa, are you dreaming
of your times beneath the willow
with fishing rod and sandwich in your hands?
It was there you dreamed of children
born of love upon your pillow
before the storm clouds spread across our lands.
You rose up to fight them,
those dark clouds that raged and billowed
to steal this pleasant meadow from our eyes,
but now Grandpa, you lie sleeping
in your place beneath the willow,
for what you always owned to be our prize.
14/6/18