'Beneath Miss Willow'
Majestic form against reality stands
Mighty willow with limbs of grace
The small child once again she sees
Seeking safety's soft embrace
Come my child... do enter in
My spirit feels your thirst
I can quench the need inside
But you must trust me first
What shall we do today she asks...
Soft melodic voice sings out
To lend your face a gleeful smile
Erase unsettled doubt
Clothespin dolls... skirts of hollyhock
Donning corn-silk for their hair
Simple joys come to life
Expressed without a care
Time passes far too quickly
Every song and dance does end
No loving arms of Miss Willow
Reach out in my grown-up land
I miss the willow's cool embrace
As reality is not so kind
But for this moment I return
In my heart and in my mind
© Copyright 2025 flowing pencil. All rights reserved.
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Hi there. . .Absolutely loved the second verse, as it developes a character all its own. Can imagine Miss Willow speaking even more.
Think it should be titled "Miss Willow". Crazy me & my imagination.
Clothespin dolls, I relate to ( still have some I keep on hand for whomever comes along). Should it be 'do end' or 'does end'-singular subject. Very nice, I was right in there under that willow having fun.
BT
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Thank you sweet lady. I thought about that title and in face had it as such but was concerned about it being "Miss" when I also say.. "mother's arms" as a Miss.. suggest she isn't a mother. Though in real life?
Thanks for the thought on do end and does end. LORD I haven't a clue!!! I'll try and check and see if I can find some info.
I so want a willow here... At our age though.. would be ever see it reach it true fruition? Though would be lovely for next owners. May ask Robert about this. He knows everything about planting.
Patti
Wow Patti,
I wish I had suggestions to help you improve your poem, but I can't think of any.
It reminded me a little of The Giving Tree which is one of my favorite children's books. I just love the simplicity of your prose. Every word oozes meaning.
Well done! Lance
Author
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I really honored that your reading some of my poetry as I know it isn't a genre of writing you normally read. Nor is it mine :D I read it only to review for others. Rather read a detective novel any day. Or a autobiography. Been that way since a teen..
I'm not familiar with "The Giving Tree"... But then my children are all grown adults with children of their own.. Except for one.
Pleased you liked this Lance.
Patricia
Wonderful poem, Patti. Filled with memories and the mindset of youth.
My memories of willows is a bit more masculine, but nevertheless nostalgic. Our willow had a swing hung from the branches that let us launch our sun-browned bodies waaaaay out into the lake and splashdown amid a huge wave.
Then we'd all lounge under it, munching PB&J, sip our Kool-Aid, and crunch potato ships.
I really miss those days.
~Tom
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Thanks Tom.. I so understand your words. As adults we lose our innocence and some lose it very early in life. As I read your words I could visualize you and others laughing and perhaps having a hint of apprehension as took flight in space before landing in the lake! It was simply a huge slingshot in a way. :D
Ah.. PB&J.. yum... we put lettuce on ours and it was actually very good. And Kool-aid .. my oh my. My aunt Dorothy introduced us to orange Kool-aid and how I loved it as she took two packages instead of one making it far more tasty. How I made it after that. Not a healthy drink for children but neither was the cheap byproducts in bologna LOL.. Or God forbid Spam!
Thanks for reading.. once caught up with some of the work I've taken on reviewing wise..I will try and take on your newest work. I'm such a fan.
Patti
Hi Patti. Look at me, actually getting acquainted with poetry (which I insist calling stories)…
I enjoy that you remind the readers that these are true memoirs. Very nice. I have a great love and respect for nature and all the gifts nature bestows on us.
Beautiful picture here Patti -
Mighty willow with limbs of grace
The small child once again she sees
Seeking safety's soft embrace
Reading these lines, does fill my spirit with comfort
Come my child... do enter in
My spirit feels your thirst
I can quench the need inside
But you must trust me first
Patti, if we weren't in the middle of a snow storm, I would go outside and spread my wings on newly mowed grass, and if I were really lucky the regular four deer I often watch, would join me and I would share your prose with them.
I wonder, do you know that your prose literally touches the heart.
I love this -
Times passes far too quickly
Every song and dance does end
Having spent most of my childhood climbing trees and taking in the scents and feeling the softest of leaves, I relate -
I miss the willow's cool embrace
As reality is not so kind
But for this moment I return
In my heart and in my mind
****Ah! Thanks for this Flowing Pencil.
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Ah thanks.. I have to admit I love trying to capture memories in poetry as the best genre of writing for me as lack the skills for others. Though some may think I lack the skills for poetry. LOL.
I have a few pieces, this being one that when I read it, I break down in tears. My grandmother's watch poem being one of them. Any poem about Kevin.. brings me to my knees. Not due to pieces being well written but the subjects. I love humorous ones also. Not the thing to do but I laugh at my own humor. Perhaps because nobody else does lol..
I have a hunch that willow was not as large as I remember as I was so very young. But those memories around my "Big Mom" home are many of my fondest. I knew I was safe.. I knew I would eat.. and I knew I was cherished.
Patti
Maybe toss in a robin or a starling. How about shifting the stanzas?
Such as like this:
I miss the willow's cool embrace
As reality is not so kind
But for this moment I return
In my heart and in my mind
Times passes far too quickly
Every song and dance does end
No loving arms of Miss Willow
Reach out in my grown-up land
Clothespin dolls... skirts of hollyhock
Donning corn-silk for their hair
Simple joys come to life
Expressed without a care
The opening is stiff. Majestic form against reality stands makes me think of opera sets. The rest is very nice and full of nostalgia.
So back to the drawing board.
nadine
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thanks for reading and the feedback. Will give it consideration. Weighing all the feedback of others and then what my intentions were. Has to be me speaking or else it simply doesn't work.
Dang.. I've been reading a lot of my early work. So many in dire need!!! :D Which indicates a lot of growth. ????
Once again you've captured my imagination. Last fall we stayed at a home with a huge weeping willow tree in the backyard. I hadn't been around one for ages and found myself spending lots of time under its canopy of branches. Your poem took me back to that tree and helped me relive the wonderful emotions I felt there.
Your words flow so effortlessly and the images are absolutely wonderful. I could almost hear the soft rustling of the leaves. I loved the entire poem, but my favorite lines are the last four.
This is a beautiful piece!
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Thanks Emily as this is one of my own favorites and I am pretty pleased with which is saying a lot as I'm very tough on myself. I want my words to be as if "paint" and brushing against a canvas.. each word a stroke.. until a landscape of sorts is painted.
Still growing after all these years. I have some books I've pulled out to study and see if I can improve technically but doubt I absorb much. LOL.
Happy it evoked memories of your own joy with the magical trees.
Patricia
An ode to a tree that has special meaning. It's really beautiful. You bring the past and present together to show their difference, but you it's clear that the past is still alive and made you what you are in the present. Does that make sense?
I love trees as a rule. In California we had an old pepper tree. They are very sticky with sap and they fruit with red and white pepper corns. Easy to climb and fragile, but beautiful never the less. The tree I like best here in Hawaii is the Monkey Pod tree. It's a bit like a California Black Oak, but much larger, and very majestic.
I love willows. Some I've seen are gigantic and weeping branches touch the ground making a private room underneath. Cool. That's what I see as your willow. A little girl underneath lost in play.
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Ah yes... lost in the innocence of childhood and it take much. Piles of leaves were a wonderland. Raking and piling as high as a child could.. running on skinny little legs and diving in. Grabbing huge handfuls and tossing them in the air.. only to have to pile the leaves up again. We didn't mind! :D My grandchildren actually love to do this little activity also.
Thanks for reading and the continued support. I'm trying to get more budding writers of "poetry" to join this site as it is the best for improving or simply learning the basics.. Some just posts poems to simply share. And there is NO growth that way.
Patti
Oh wow!!!! Patti, what a beautiful poem. You evoke emotions everyone reading this poem will share, feel.
Grown-up land, reality not so kind ... returning for that one moment again. We don't do enough of that as we are running, running, running and playing this silly grown-up game.
It can't be improved in my opinion, it works as is, and is just simply perfect!
xx
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Sorry I'm late with this. Not my style! I've read the piece over and over and looked back through my memory of the events beneath the willow.. so keeping the sequence. I would take clothespins .. some sort of crayon or paint..for eyes and mouths etc.. cornsilk for the hair and of course hollyhock blossoms for skirts. I loved the coolness on hot summer days as Ohio can be rather miserable in July and August. :D
Grown-up land can be harsh as can childhood but for brief moments.. all is forgotten.
Patti
I read the entire poem and enjoyed it. The way the poem ends is terrific followed by the fact that from the second stanza onwards the poem catches up attention and becomes absorbing and interesting, later it becomes engrossing.
A very well written which has got depth, simple in it's way of telling things, avoiding confusion and taking sides, yet it reaches the end on the right note and at the right point in time.
Great work !!!!!!
Author
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Aniket.. first of all, my apologies for taking this long to get to all your reviews! I SO appreciate your time and effort. Usually I get back to writers asap.. Not like me at all.
Just fighting something that is leaving me tired.
I'm pleased you enjoyed this little jaunt back to my childhood. It is a joy writing about the "good memories." More difficult writing about the darker ones. BUT perhaps good for one to do so.
Again thank you for reading and the feedback.
Patti
Wow. I'm not a poet, so forgive my lack of helpful feedback, but this is beautiful.
I have a daughter whose name is Willow, so this piece really touched me.
The Willow is a metaphor for so much here, for childhood, for a mother, perhaps, but also simply as the willow itself.
Love it.
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Thank you Julie.. It is about an actual willow tree at my "Big Mom's" home. What I called my grandmother. She was my haven in so many ways and that willow was magical as offered a coolness from the summer heat. She had many hollyhock plants and they made wonderful skirts for my clothespin dancers. Corn silk was plentiful from her garden for hair and a child could get lost in her own wonderment. She died when I was a young teen and it was the most painful loss I had experienced. My safety net was gone.
I love the name "Willow" as is suggests not only "grace" but "strength." Plus the ability to bend when the need arises.
One doesn't need to be a poet to enjoy poetry and as everyone who has known me for the years I've been on this site.. poetry is my least favorite genre. BUT only genre I can write. :D
Again, thank you so much for reading and very pleased you found it worthy of a response.
Patricia
Patti,
As a Northerner I always loved Willows. (Check your FB messages I sent you a photo of one I took.) They do seem to embrace you, always a cool, calming breeze beneath them. My granddaughter had never seen one and fell in love.
This poem embraces my childhood and every poem I read brings me back to a special place.
Thank you for making me love poetry!!!!
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Thank you so much. This is one of my personal favorites. Has been tweaked a little and think it is "done." I so loved that willow. Most likely her home and the willow are gone as the home was in disrepair while she was still alive and she died in 1955 or 56 IF memory serves me. :D
Children don't need a lot to create magic with. Clothespins .. hollyhock blooms and corn silk and perhaps a pen.. and viola. Dancing dolls. :D
I will check my FB page.
Patti
This is a nice memory. I can imagine that a willow tree would also provides privacy as well as cool refuge. Either way those leafy tendrils make good shelter.
Is the willow tree gone? That is my impression with the fifth panel. I suppose as a grown up you don't have time to make corn husk dolls.
This poem is neat and free flowing.
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Thank you for continued reading of my "efforts" :D .. as for the willow? Most likely it is gone as is my "Big Mom's" house. It was a lifetime ago. I haven't been back to Forest Ohio in years.. and even then didn't go and see if her home was still there. She died in the fifties...
I bet if we could grow hollyhock here.. and I had some older type clothespins... I could buy a few ears of corn and make those doll as if yesterday.. under that cool haven provided by Miss Willow... :D I've tried to find hollyhock in some of the nurseries but to no avail. Washington State is NOT Ohio... though I prefer it here. :D
At my age? I'm still a child at heart.
Patti
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