Sitting by the Willow tree
He thinks on her everyday
In his mind’s eye, tries to see
But other images do betray
He squints his eyes tighter still
But nothing his way comes
He wants for a moment just to feel
More than the cold summer sun
A gentle breeze sways the tree
Creaking high above
Letting loose a falling leaf
It triggers his lost love
For this the Willow she was born
Her name the same as the tree
It was where she relaxed more
It was where she was conceived
Also it was their first date
A picnic under the Willow’s shade
They both knew then it was fate
They had their lives planned and made
But a few years down the line
Fate stepped in once again
She was just out of sight and time
A car knocked her dead
As he sits under the great Willow
Tears fall down his face, on grass
As he watches their child’s face glow
This his link to his lost past
Published by
Darren Greenidge
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
View all posts by Darren Greenidge
Caliburnus Rises 