Filigree Dreams [poem]
There is a weeping willow tree
I wish to climb.
It’s branches lithe and lone
hang droopingly
inviting me to hold its trunk
in summertime
I stood not far from where she grew
and touched her bark.
Her heaven scent perplexed
my solitude
while hazy clouds of dreams divined
a latent star
Then voices from the boughs exclaimed
“Resist his charms”.
(Despite their ignorance
they had no shame).
“If you pursue this course,” they said
“he’ll do you harm”
And then to me: “You’re far too old
to climb that tree”.
I marvelled at the way
that jealousy
will always find a way to fray
the filigree
For latticework’s a fitting way
to picture love.
Delicately weaving
intricate Eves
like willow leaves must outflow from
the skies above
© 2012, Alan Morrison
The Naked Troubadour 