A Walk Beside the Willow Tree by Echo Morse

A Walk Beside The Willow Tree

She must have been
The model; the artist was
Observing when the willow tree was painted
Down a street of my staying

Such innocent babies would almost
Just as easily not be born to suffer
The sight of such mysterious earths:

What offer does this land hold
For such a sight painted, only knowing to give

Plush hairs of the willow
Wipe the portraits against perseverance
To humanity’s rash nonsensicals – such as I;

Lost in all the lustrous scents
Passing through a child’s memoirs

She must hath burned beyond centuries
With her same yellow candles

Beneath what bosom holds such blueprint in the fires of turbulence, and
Fretful-Cacophony and what of the severity?
What of the Devil’s luck more must I so deteriorate for to be then of able
Competence same as only acroamatics…

In the proximities of a heartless fall’s breathe
You grant the world not of your wisdoms
But of your so righteous sacrimonies
In the exposition of your blaring melancholy:                                 a lecture reciting only the triumph in your elegance.

©Echo Morse 2015


Follow Echo Morse


Echo Morse is an accomplished musician who has been playing shows all around St. Louis, Missouri since the age of 14.  Along with his penetrating love for music he shares a passion for his art and poetry, aspiring to soon bring all of his talents to simultaneous fruition as an accomplished traveling-touring musician, artist and tattoo artist, poet and author, and later a teacher.  Echo’s mysteriously profound writings are raw and torn straight from the soul.


Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.