Weeping Willow Poem Novels & Stories

his voice trembled through the phone. I didn’t mean to use my Alpha voice. I have never had to with my pack. They have never given me a reason to need to. I feel a little guilty for using it on the old man now, but he didn’t seem upset about it. “Thank you,” I manage to get out before the line disconnects. I look down at Willow and wipe a few stray hairs from her face. While she is unconscious her body is still shivering and trembling like someone who has been out in below freezing temperatures for too long. Her skin feels ice cold to the touch, yet her forehead is beaded with sweat.

“Let’s see it.” I turned the paper over, and revealed the poem scrawled in pencil on the back. Down the streets of woodland black I wander, earth to hearse In every tree I see a wave A looming tidal curse On the cusp of something greater Stood ankle-deep in floodwater Stagnant pools of brown and red The onslaught is coming; I dread For each dark night and each pearl day The mist does clear too soon The floodplain is drown’d again The water, torn from its ocean womb

Quill answered. Without replying to him, Howard was staring at the willow tree that was standing by the river as it was bending down to it. The tree looked so weak like it would break if the wind hit it when the truth is they never bend! Except for its sorrowful state, it's strong enough to defeat the wind.

But she had no idea that I didn’t want to reject her. The hot summer air in Louisiana was no joke, the entire wolf pack often finding itself in the river trying to cool off. Today was no different. But my mate, she didn’t stick around. Willow, what an unusual name. Soft and yielding but stronger than any other trees in our area.

The sound of rushing water. Her feet came to a standstill along a cliffside where a waterfall descended. As she gazed over the ledge, her vision only noticed darkness where the water disappeared into. Her heart clenched so tight in her chest, aching with the pain of humiliation and defeat. She was done. Willow stepped out into the open space that would consume her being forever. "WILLOW!" ----------

Each foot forward brings chill deeper into the bones, the smell of soaked ground, old and slow. Night swallows the sky, no moon in sight. Roses and hedges twist into shadowy figures, still but watchful. Green glow seeps from above, yet shadows grow thicker because of it. Walking toward the weeping willows feels less like moving forward and more like slipping beneath the surface. A beat pounds inside me like wings too fast to count, yet thoughts move clear and slow. Here we are now. That narrow gap appears ahead. A place she guards because it frightens her deeply. Maybe where I stop walking altogether.

‎ ‎With sorrows. ‎ ‎With joys too big for words. ‎ ‎And the garden answered. ‎ ‎With rustling leaves. ‎ ‎With blooming flowers. ‎ ‎With the steady warmth of earth that remembered love. ‎ ‎One autumn day, many years after Willow began her stories, a young boy came alone. ‎ ‎He was ten, descendant of Kael’s line, wild and curious, with Rex’s red eyes and my silver hair. ‎ ‎He sat cross-legged before our stones, his small hands in the dirt.

Since I started taking those red capsules, which I had no idea what they did but Olivia said they helped to sink deeper into beautiful dreams, all that had to be done to drop into a deep sleep was to fall on a bed. Weeping willows. They were everywhere. Singing a melodious tune, sounding like a choir. There was no music in the background. Bits of lyrics were faintly audible to my ears. Willow … tree that weeps … that elegant twinkling angel. The place identical to what I had seen before.

Penny trembled as she opened her mouth slightly and read Darryl’s poem. “Over old trees wreathed with ancient vines and flying evening crows. “Under a small bridge at a nearby cottage, a stream flows. “On an ancient road in the west wind, a lean horse goes. “Westward the setting sun goes. “Far from home was the heartbroken one!” Westward the setting sun goes. Far from home was the heartbroken one! The entire city rumbled in cheers in the blink of an eye. It was a great poem! There was nothing like it!

After making sure no one is looking at this side, she made the vines wrap around the dead rogues and dragged them along with the vines into the ground, easily wiping the evidence. Nothing is left once it is done. Not a single drop of blood. Grass grew where the blood was. This much exertion doesn't usually drain her powers, but after the mindless wandering and using her powers constantly on every tree she came across, all Willow wanted to do was sleep. With tired steps, she turned ready to head to her temporary 'home'. But before she can go further than a few blocks, she encountered another scene that made her curious and questioned everything she heard.