I used to think that these trees were called “witches’ fingers” when we’d drive past them on hour long car trips. The kinds where we’d travel to non-special-special-occasions, like going to Lompoc to visit Kit’s friend, Kendra.
Emma
Reminds me of Pocahontas’ “Just around the river bend.” Willow branches remind me of mystery and anticipation. Their long branches hide what lies on the other side and it is a moment of excitement when you pull them back to see. They also seem romantic for that very reason :) I’d love to get married under one.
Kayleigh
The word willow reminds me of old books. Doesn’t seem to be used now a days. People don’t really know the meaning either. I think I’ll just take this opportunity to say it rhymes with pillow.
trees blowing in the wind so fast they just might lose control
hanging lonely from the dangerously beautiful willow
i cried
gemma
She was willow thin. Tall with long, long limbs, she lent again the pillar. He watched her, entranced. She had the most beautiful long blond hair and the bluest blue eyes. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Freya
another image of david appeared,”Jessie, you dont have super powers anymore,”he started doing kung fu moves, “you must bend like the willow
dann
another image of david appeared,”Jessie, you dont have super powers any more,”he started doing kung fu moves, “you must bend like the willow
dann
I love willow trees. When I die I want to be cremated and then my ashes used to help plant a willow tree in my memory. To me, they’re the most beautiful trees in existence, and I would love nothing more than for one to act as my headstone.
The willow does not snap it hangs limp, it bends. It looks sad to us because of this, but why? Why do we put human characteristics onto inanimate objects? So we feel less alone.
Daniel Purcell
Willow was a clever little girl. Mischevious and conniving, not slight as her name would suggest.
dennis
Let’s sit beneath the willow tree and think about the mistakes we’ve made and the ones we plan to do and pretend we’re still sane.
Drunk as fuck. As far as I’ve heard, that was an adequate description. How it could take six people to get a teenage girl into bed, I’ll never know. Just glad I wasn’t there. Enjoy the new nickname, Willobarrow.
He shakes side to side, like the branches of a willow tree, changing his mind, going in every which direction. He can’t decide what he wants, takes advantage of his habitat, protecting those who cower underneath him, but those on the outside…
Rebecka
Forever weeping
Its sad really
Or rather, reaching for the grounds in hope to find something that growing towards the sun doesn’t.
I don’t know what, if anything, they will find, but I want to find it too.
This tree looks sad, in its dreary posture. But when we look at someone who is shy and hunched, does this mean that our assumptions are correct? Not necessarily. The weeping willow could be weeping in joy. While people run by on the trails, baby ducks are born, and children are playing in the lakes, the willow watches them in joy. Everyone needs a little failure in their life to feel fully happy. So weep on, willow, because we know that you watch over us. You watch us live, we watch you grow, you watch us grow old, and you see our children grow. Oh willow, look after them. Weep for them, willow. Willow, do not sulk and we shall decorate you in all of your beauty.
Riley McKechnie
I saw beneath the willow tree and watched the day pass me by. I did nothing as I sat wrapped in the blanket of the shadow; i did not learn, I did not teach, or move, or even talk. I just sat there and I smiled.
Chris King
i have a willow tree out back. It is 55 feet tall and I love it.
wilma bibler
the willow tree hung down over my face; my new bridal veil. as i looked to my recently murdered husband in the tree i smiled to myself. maybe next time… maybe next time….
my work was strung from the branches, letting me know my job was complete and i stepped from the willow’s shadow.
emily
i have a willow tree out back.
wilma bibler
The girl cries her pain away under the willow tree. She says she is okay, people have no clue, but inside her, lays a lonely heart. Go chase the love of your life lonely girl.
I stood beneath the willow tree, contemplating what we are. I want to be home. I want to be away from here. And so soon, I will be. I just have to keep going.
My grandma had a willow in her backyard. Right next to the treehouse me and my cousins built where we hid from our parents immersed in the mundane chit0chat of family reunions. It”s gone now. the treehouse. maybe the willow is still there.
Andee
it was a book i had to read as a child. didn’t like it at first but after having reread it it started to grow on me.
viola
willow is where i began my career as a pastor.
it was huge. mega church.
but it was small to me.
my closest friends, figuring out what Christianity looked like in the last few years of the millenia.
I once saw a willow tree on my college campus. Or, pehaps, it wasn’t a willow tree. I forget. Anyway, it had leaf things hanging from it and I remember that I first saw the love of my life while brushing one of the leaf things out of my eyes.
Jenika Lee
sitting underneath the willow tree i read. i read about flying, pancakes and mullberry stew. about monsters and fish and the color blue.
Laura Thompson
willow tree.. weeping willow .. willa u be my friend? cilla. tilla. a tilla the hun. big foot. arrrrghhh. chevy chase. national lampoon. harold and kumar go to white castle.
wymberley
My little sister is like a willow. She is tall and gorgeous, and so thin, she looks like she could be knocked over by a breeze. But that’s ridiculous; she is strong. Stronger than both of her sisters, and her mother. My little willow sister.
I don’t know, I don’t know, I’m an idiot, why am I so stupid, ARFARFARF! I’m a walrusdog! I’m stupid, dumb, idiot, and walrusdogOHYEAH. OHNOMBLOMBLOMBLOM.
Billy
a tree that is a angiosperm. it can have leaves that bend to the ground
Anna
she bent and weaved through the sky. violent winds whipped her swiftly back and forth. one loud crack and she was down. never to get back up. its funny how things work out for most but for a willow you can bend and bend and never break
The tree sat there, in the wind. Howling through the branches. It was cold and the tree shook. A beautiful willow. Moon high overhead, it was almost peaceful but something in the auroa of the tree was misleading. Dangerous as it weeped.
Destiny
In a world of willow, only the bravest can survive the indifference of a women making the best to control the world above.
dea
When I was growing up the people that lived at the end of our street had a weeping willow and I remember learning about them in science class in elementary school and I would always talk about how there was a big weeping willow at the end of my street and I was such a cool person because of it.
A willow tree is somthing beautiful, and elegent. A willow tree is the grandmother of all trees, for she has seen what there is to be seen, and she knows what there is to know. Once the most beautiful tree in the land, she is now the most regal, for she stands proud above the
Emily
the willow tree slwly danced in the wind as slowly as if she were a dancing to the tune of the zephyrs flute, playing a song of summer and a song of love. she shudders under the majestic suns
zak cowell
I sat by the river that day. I wasn’t sure how to feel. Numb, I guess. Cold. I’d never had anyone die before. Not when I was younger, no one close to me. I was scared. Felt alone. A grown woman, feeling alone. But no. I wasn’t alone. I never was. It just felt that way. But there was some strange solace knowing that the willow behind my back had been through so much, been there for so long, and was still standing in spite of it all.
I fell out of a weeping willow tree when I was nine. I don’t remember falling. I don’t remember anything, except being led up toward my grandparents’ house by my great uncle Leo. I seem to recall — not sure if this is true? — they laid me down on the picnic table on my grandparents’ patio to check to see if I was okay.
I used to think that these trees were called “witches’ fingers” when we’d drive past them on hour long car trips. The kinds where we’d travel to non-special-special-occasions, like going to Lompoc to visit Kit’s friend, Kendra.
Reminds me of Pocahontas’ “Just around the river bend.” Willow branches remind me of mystery and anticipation. Their long branches hide what lies on the other side and it is a moment of excitement when you pull them back to see. They also seem romantic for that very reason :) I’d love to get married under one.
The word willow reminds me of old books. Doesn’t seem to be used now a days. People don’t really know the meaning either. I think I’ll just take this opportunity to say it rhymes with pillow.
trees blowing in the wind so fast they just might lose control
hanging lonely from the dangerously beautiful willow
i cried
She was willow thin. Tall with long, long limbs, she lent again the pillar. He watched her, entranced. She had the most beautiful long blond hair and the bluest blue eyes. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
another image of david appeared,”Jessie, you dont have super powers anymore,”he started doing kung fu moves, “you must bend like the willow
another image of david appeared,”Jessie, you dont have super powers any more,”he started doing kung fu moves, “you must bend like the willow
I love willow trees. When I die I want to be cremated and then my ashes used to help plant a willow tree in my memory. To me, they’re the most beautiful trees in existence, and I would love nothing more than for one to act as my headstone.
Willow was a clever little girl, mischevious and conniving, not slight as her name would suggest.
The willow does not snap it hangs limp, it bends. It looks sad to us because of this, but why? Why do we put human characteristics onto inanimate objects? So we feel less alone.
Willow was a clever little girl. Mischevious and conniving, not slight as her name would suggest.
Let’s sit beneath the willow tree and think about the mistakes we’ve made and the ones we plan to do and pretend we’re still sane.
Drunk as fuck. As far as I’ve heard, that was an adequate description. How it could take six people to get a teenage girl into bed, I’ll never know. Just glad I wasn’t there. Enjoy the new nickname, Willobarrow.
He shakes side to side, like the branches of a willow tree, changing his mind, going in every which direction. He can’t decide what he wants, takes advantage of his habitat, protecting those who cower underneath him, but those on the outside…
Forever weeping
Its sad really
Or rather, reaching for the grounds in hope to find something that growing towards the sun doesn’t.
I don’t know what, if anything, they will find, but I want to find it too.
This tree looks sad, in its dreary posture. But when we look at someone who is shy and hunched, does this mean that our assumptions are correct? Not necessarily. The weeping willow could be weeping in joy. While people run by on the trails, baby ducks are born, and children are playing in the lakes, the willow watches them in joy. Everyone needs a little failure in their life to feel fully happy. So weep on, willow, because we know that you watch over us. You watch us live, we watch you grow, you watch us grow old, and you see our children grow. Oh willow, look after them. Weep for them, willow. Willow, do not sulk and we shall decorate you in all of your beauty.
I saw beneath the willow tree and watched the day pass me by. I did nothing as I sat wrapped in the blanket of the shadow; i did not learn, I did not teach, or move, or even talk. I just sat there and I smiled.
i have a willow tree out back. It is 55 feet tall and I love it.
the willow tree hung down over my face; my new bridal veil. as i looked to my recently murdered husband in the tree i smiled to myself. maybe next time… maybe next time….
my work was strung from the branches, letting me know my job was complete and i stepped from the willow’s shadow.
i have a willow tree out back.
The girl cries her pain away under the willow tree. She says she is okay, people have no clue, but inside her, lays a lonely heart. Go chase the love of your life lonely girl.
I stood beneath the willow tree, contemplating what we are. I want to be home. I want to be away from here. And so soon, I will be. I just have to keep going.
My grandma had a willow in her backyard. Right next to the treehouse me and my cousins built where we hid from our parents immersed in the mundane chit0chat of family reunions. It”s gone now. the treehouse. maybe the willow is still there.
it was a book i had to read as a child. didn’t like it at first but after having reread it it started to grow on me.
willow is where i began my career as a pastor.
it was huge. mega church.
but it was small to me.
my closest friends, figuring out what Christianity looked like in the last few years of the millenia.
It bound us together for a long time.
(Or at least I thought it did)
Willow goes on.
I once saw a willow tree on my college campus. Or, pehaps, it wasn’t a willow tree. I forget. Anyway, it had leaf things hanging from it and I remember that I first saw the love of my life while brushing one of the leaf things out of my eyes.
sitting underneath the willow tree i read. i read about flying, pancakes and mullberry stew. about monsters and fish and the color blue.
willow tree.. weeping willow .. willa u be my friend? cilla. tilla. a tilla the hun. big foot. arrrrghhh. chevy chase. national lampoon. harold and kumar go to white castle.
My little sister is like a willow. She is tall and gorgeous, and so thin, she looks like she could be knocked over by a breeze. But that’s ridiculous; she is strong. Stronger than both of her sisters, and her mother. My little willow sister.
willow….. natural selection…
I don’t know, I don’t know, I’m an idiot, why am I so stupid, ARFARFARF! I’m a walrusdog! I’m stupid, dumb, idiot, and walrusdogOHYEAH. OHNOMBLOMBLOMBLOM.
a tree that is a angiosperm. it can have leaves that bend to the ground
she bent and weaved through the sky. violent winds whipped her swiftly back and forth. one loud crack and she was down. never to get back up. its funny how things work out for most but for a willow you can bend and bend and never break
The tree sat there, in the wind. Howling through the branches. It was cold and the tree shook. A beautiful willow. Moon high overhead, it was almost peaceful but something in the auroa of the tree was misleading. Dangerous as it weeped.
In a world of willow, only the bravest can survive the indifference of a women making the best to control the world above.
When I was growing up the people that lived at the end of our street had a weeping willow and I remember learning about them in science class in elementary school and I would always talk about how there was a big weeping willow at the end of my street and I was such a cool person because of it.
A willow tree is somthing beautiful, and elegent. A willow tree is the grandmother of all trees, for she has seen what there is to be seen, and she knows what there is to know. Once the most beautiful tree in the land, she is now the most regal, for she stands proud above the
the willow tree slwly danced in the wind as slowly as if she were a dancing to the tune of the zephyrs flute, playing a song of summer and a song of love. she shudders under the majestic suns
I sat by the river that day. I wasn’t sure how to feel. Numb, I guess. Cold. I’d never had anyone die before. Not when I was younger, no one close to me. I was scared. Felt alone. A grown woman, feeling alone. But no. I wasn’t alone. I never was. It just felt that way. But there was some strange solace knowing that the willow behind my back had been through so much, been there for so long, and was still standing in spite of it all.
I fell out of a weeping willow tree when I was nine. I don’t remember falling. I don’t remember anything, except being led up toward my grandparents’ house by my great uncle Leo. I seem to recall — not sure if this is true? — they laid me down on the picnic table on my grandparents’ patio to check to see if I was okay.