Charles sat by the willow tree, taking in the bucolic scene. The pigs were square dancing with the crocodiles, who wore their best overalls. Even the ho’s got down. It was a real hoedown. Then a meteor hit the earth, and everyone suddenly forgot how to stay alive.
He sat y the willow tree, taking in the bucolic scene. The pigs were square dancing with the crocodiles, who wore their best overalls. Even the ho’s got down. It was a real hoedown. Then the meteor hit the earth, and everyone suddenly forgot how to stay alive.
The Oak and the Willow, a fable
In a field, there was an oak at one end, and a willow-tree at the other.
Whenever a wind moved through the field, the willow swayed in the wind, while the oak remained unmoved.
When this happened, the willow said to itself, “I wish I was as strong as the Oak, instead of bending over with every breeze“ then one day a large windstorm whipped through the field.
When the storm passed, and the darkness lifted, the willow looked across the field, and was shocked to discover that the oak was laying on the ground, broken. When the Gardener came into the field, the willow said, “Oh sir, what happened to the Oak? How is it that I survived the storm, weak as I am, and the Oak fell?”
The Gardener said, “Oh little willow-tree, do you not understand what happened? When the winds blow, you bend with them, while the oak remains still. So when a really powerful wind comes along, you can bend with the wind, and survive it. But the Oak cannot bend, and so if the wind is strong enough, it will break. For the Oak had a secret, a weakness within that no one looking at the outside could see. And the Gardener went on his way, leaving the willow to ponder what he said.
Moral: Strength within and strength without are not the same, and one should cultivate strength within first. Also, when the winds of life blow, bend, and you may survive the real storms when they come. Try and resist them, and when the real storms come, you may break instead.
As I sit underneath this beautiful willow tree, I think and revel in the moment. The only place anyone should ever be. Well the tree is optional, but being where nothing else is is the most important.
I called her Willow. She is like the tree that sways wherever the wind blows. The breeze carries her like gracefully but yet, she is grounded. She is extremely intoxicating. That, I said, is who I want to strive to be one day.
How are you now with your lacy skirts hanging down like an ancient beaded curtain? Are you still towering above that beautiful, brave cottage on the lake; still dispensing peace, a veil of protection, of comfort in the form of wisdom and knowing? What would you say to me now, venerable willow tree, that Not Knowing holds within it Possibility? That it is a gift, my last vision of your grandeur, like a taste of immortality?
Charles sat by the willow tree, taking in the bucolic scene. The pigs were square dancing with the crocodiles, who wore their best overalls. Even the ho’s got down. It was a real hoedown. Then a meteor hit the earth, and everyone suddenly forgot how to stay alive.
He sat y the willow tree, taking in the bucolic scene. The pigs were square dancing with the crocodiles, who wore their best overalls. Even the ho’s got down. It was a real hoedown. Then the meteor hit the earth, and everyone suddenly forgot how to stay alive.
Willows are beautiful.
willow is a name off of Liv and Maddie. That is the only thing I could think of because I have no clue what it means
willow willow, where will you go?
a slip and a droop
a sway
no breath of air moves that branch
no wind rustles those leaves
small rodent, large tail
watching
The Oak and the Willow, a fable
In a field, there was an oak at one end, and a willow-tree at the other.
Whenever a wind moved through the field, the willow swayed in the wind, while the oak remained unmoved.
When this happened, the willow said to itself, “I wish I was as strong as the Oak, instead of bending over with every breeze“ then one day a large windstorm whipped through the field.
When the storm passed, and the darkness lifted, the willow looked across the field, and was shocked to discover that the oak was laying on the ground, broken. When the Gardener came into the field, the willow said, “Oh sir, what happened to the Oak? How is it that I survived the storm, weak as I am, and the Oak fell?”
The Gardener said, “Oh little willow-tree, do you not understand what happened? When the winds blow, you bend with them, while the oak remains still. So when a really powerful wind comes along, you can bend with the wind, and survive it. But the Oak cannot bend, and so if the wind is strong enough, it will break. For the Oak had a secret, a weakness within that no one looking at the outside could see. And the Gardener went on his way, leaving the willow to ponder what he said.
Moral: Strength within and strength without are not the same, and one should cultivate strength within first. Also, when the winds of life blow, bend, and you may survive the real storms when they come. Try and resist them, and when the real storms come, you may break instead.
Sitting underneath a
Willow tree watching the
Sunset over the
Ocean in
My mind
a willow and an oak?
lovers deepen
shadows
beneath the weeping
willow
hair wildly worn
brushed by
sweeping creeping
vines
whispered wails
cloaked in
verdant veils
As I sit underneath this beautiful willow tree, I think and revel in the moment. The only place anyone should ever be. Well the tree is optional, but being where nothing else is is the most important.
I called her Willow. She is like the tree that sways wherever the wind blows. The breeze carries her like gracefully but yet, she is grounded. She is extremely intoxicating. That, I said, is who I want to strive to be one day.
I think of Willow as a name, but when i think of the name, it makes me think of a flower.
How are you now with your lacy skirts hanging down like an ancient beaded curtain? Are you still towering above that beautiful, brave cottage on the lake; still dispensing peace, a veil of protection, of comfort in the form of wisdom and knowing? What would you say to me now, venerable willow tree, that Not Knowing holds within it Possibility? That it is a gift, my last vision of your grandeur, like a taste of immortality?