The Melancholy Willow

Mellow willow wave my pillow

not with dew my melancholy spills all out to you

the winding way beneath
your tresses like a wreath

caressing now the sheath of my dismay

Willow waving sad good byes 
willow telling never lies

willow in my pillow weeping dreams
nothing's what it seems

is it, was it, what I feel

knowing, flowing as we kneel

over waters deep
thinking in your sleep

Willow, love, your grace profound 

with autumn leaves you sweep

by the mill the willow I adore

even when I see you never more

your're the clothes that I adorn

swaddled as I was when I was born

Oh Longobaldolino, love, the memory of your tears

while weeping willow fears 
your supple body bears

and makes you dig so deep 
e’en though it be in sleep

to find your waning heart that beats

beneath the great charade of life
and its parade of strife

now willing to decease the hardships of disease

and finally obtain release

I love you Longo come to me
where I will soothe your brow

in any way I can, to waft away your pain

and give relief in what we now call grief.

And all this came of weeping
with the willow of your youth

so lonely standing on the hill, so long ago for sooth

it heralded your sad demise and with its tears 

did fill your eyes

already for to grieve the lies of life’s hard trials

and family ties
and in the very place 

you alone gain to mourn in words

your heart in tatters furled

The pitter-patter of small birds
sound their laughter 

to hereafter

while the blackbirds sing entranced 

who pluck the strings along the pale thin branch, 

melancholy the notes

your dead leaves making mounds beneath.

The weeping willow breathes below the heath

where mists still share our grief

wending round the bending grasses 

breezes, as I sit

leaning on the willow trunk 

so wide and deeply lit

Your boldness is sublime
and stirs this heart of mine 

while moved in sympathetic zeal 
your tears are mixed
entwine with dew,

they pour from crown right down

to stones and pebbles brown
where minnows swim

I drown 
in sorrow's deep abyss

a willow bliss, will it all come to this

oh willow I adore what you are 
there no more

Oh melancholy man we raise a smile
we can

and raise our glasses o’er the grasses bland

and toast your wisdom
stroke you with our hand 

and wish you well 
wherever is your land