STRAWBERRY MOON

My leafless grey willow, stoic, 
unyielding, you stand
amid a carnival of smiling hues, 
beneath throngs of 
pearly clouds streaming across
flourishing Summer skies 
toward misty Autumn dreams.

Revel in the beams that bathe 
the lilies around you,
in the swirling rain that seems
to stay them, for it
once crowned distant mountains.
Shimmering beads greet
winds that bring ripening, zephyrs 
loath to leave their
embrace of cool light.

I sit at your feet, we speak in the
space between sleep
and waking, summer's bouquets
splashing over our 
dreams, befuddling us with their
scents and sounds of
vines brushing the windowpanes 
with tendrilled strokes,
counting each one, as a
child matching the sun's rays to 
the numbers of a sunflower.

Together, as always, we shall await
the strawberry moon 
this twilight. I, a blessed child, shall
glory in the living artwork
of your lifeless black branches 
streaking talon-like
across its textured pink canvas, this,
my beloved willow's swansong.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image source: www.travelandleisure.com