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

 

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Bio:

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.

 

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