Thoughts Beneath the Willow Tree

BY CAROLE NICHOLS

'Neath the willows and pillowed there,
You hold me to you, breath fanning my hair;
And we gaze through the boughs at the velvet sky,
Counting the stars and contentedly sigh.

Gently the breeze cools our heated skin;
Softly asking the question,"When, love, when?"
We smile for we know that love doesn't rush,
It grows ever slowly, with it's own special touch.

So we wait and count the stars that smile,
We'll do it right this time, do it in style;
Love is patient, and warms the soul,
It doesn't threaten the heart, and never gets old.

It remains constant throughout life's stress;
It protects and defends, leaves naught to confess.
It grows with time, ever stronger, ever true,
Til it outshines the stars that I watch now with you.

I'm content to linger here 'neath the willow tree,
As long as you, dear, are here with me.
When winter comes and the summer nights end,
'Twil be soon enough for us to say when.