I believe in being prepared for any given situation. It isn't because I'm a pessimistic person; I think it is just good common sense. Hence, I've entitled my blog "Even Nothing is Something."

This covers my butt in any event. On any given day I can feel great exaltation that I have done something grand. I can scribble fiercely when my thoughts are leaping across the meadows of my mind like a happy little colt in the month of May, or my mind and writing can be as dry and arid, as cold and without life, as the Gobi desert - because even Nothing is Something.

I want to thank all of my fellow artists who work through other means and forms and who sell their work on the wonderful artist's site "Etsy," a place to buy and sell all things handmade, along with vintage items and supplies for their craft. They are a great group of people.

Those who have links to their site on my blog represent only a few of those whom I wish to include. Just click on one of those links and join the Etsy community. It is free. They are a great group of artists who have relieved me of my money in the most delightful of ways. If it weren't for their encouragement, I would have never shared my work through this blog.

Thank you my darling friends!

Enjoy my blog - The Poet or Not - More or Less

Thursday, January 6, 2011

The Weeping Willow

The Weeping Willow has long been one of my favorite trees. There is a legend about this tree. It is said that the leaves once stood tall, straight and proud until she lost her lover, making her sad, and in her misery she has never again been able to stand tall and straight. Hence, this poem.

The Weeping Willow

The Willow of
Weeping stands
alone by the
river, swaying in
the melancholy
winds that refresh
my punished
heart. From
their great height,
the slender, shimmering
leaves absorbs
my tears. The
Willow's bark makes
medicine to ease
my pain, and its leaves
that once stood
tall and strong,
until two lovers
parted in death,
leaving behind
this sad leafage
filled with misery,
unable to rise
again, making
the Willow of
Weeping a Widow
of Love, standing
alone, yet tall,
with sweeping
branches, able to
offer a haven from
the storms that
try our souls droop
in sadness. This
Willow of Weeping
knows our Secrets,
shares our Stings,
those thin cuts made
with the fine knife
Blade of a Feather.
Knowing, the
Willow of Weeping.

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