A lonely willow bends by the lake so deep, Its branches secrets ancient promises keep. A traveler paused beneath its gentle shade, And heard the rustling leaves tell tales of love and jade. They spoke of a painter who once wandered by, With a broken heart and a tear in his eye. He brushed the scene with colors bold and true, Then left his sorrows in the morning dew. Now the willow whispers to all who draw near, Of letting go of sadness, of holding joy dear. Its roots run deep where memories r...
