Weeping Willows

The weeping willow shimmers, the water droplets gleaming in her sunlit hair.

A dryad floats above her, in the air.

They unify, becoming one.

In Summer, the Willow cries with joy, enjoying the sun.

The dryad smiles, whispering to no one.

In Autumn, the Willow changes, becoming like fire.
The dryad too, both much admired.

In Winter, the dryad dreams, sorrowful and cold.

The tree itself is sobbing as it grows old.

Come spring, they are alight with flowers,

Like brides before wedding showers.

And when the willow dies,

The dryad keens,

For none was as cherished

As the dear willow queen.