He rests beneath the willow.

Here the old ones put him to sleep.

The branches bow around him.

Entombed by the leaves,

he dreams of her.

Hair flowing,

like the strands of the willow.

Eyes staring into the inky night.

A deep understanding in their wake.

He rests beneath the willow.

Lost to the seasons around him.

Entangled in the roots.

Frozen in time,

he dreams of her.

Skin soft as a flower.

Her wild smell.

The gentle whisper of her breath,

as it tickles the hair on his neck.

He rests beneath the willow.

Waiting for her to come.

His Dame on a midnight stallion.

His hero in rose colored armor.

He waits beneath the willow.

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