The Oak and the Willow.

A poem of life.

The Oak and the Willow.


High upon a windswept hill,
a mighty oak stood straight and still.
Never yielding to the wind,
he stood alone. No kith nor kin.

Those like the oak, whose will would never bend,
must of-times lonely hours spend.

Unlike the wispy willow bush,
who'd bend n yield to each light push.
She'd dance the wind a merry jig,
and wave n rustle every twig.

Those like the willow bush that bend,
shall pass life's hours amidst their friends.