THE NAUGHTY WILLOW
We had a very stormy day, high winds and buckets of rain. Looking out my window I watched the branches of my neighbors Weeping Willow Tree as the wind tossed them in every direction. The scene reminded me of the poem below, which was written by my Grandma Lillie Mae Ferris nee Fitzpatrick, who was born in 1891, in AuSable, Michigan.

 

DECEIVING WILLOW
We all know how Miss. Willow stands most demurely,
With her beautiful, long, green skirts down to the ground.
We expect her to keep them there,
Dressed in either green or brown.

It so happened on a dark and windy night,
With the storm clouds scudding swiftly, to keep the moon from sight,
I looked out my darkened window, down into my neighbor's yard,
And what I saw before my eyes, to believe was very hard.

You would think a Jazz band was playing on the wind,
While she danced like a street gamin, pleased because she's sinned.
Why, that hussy threw herself around, as if she were intoxicated,
And all such goings on should be soundly berated.

I felt so ashamed of her, I could nearly cry,
While she danced on the lawn and threw her skirts up to the sky.
And I saw that nasty Mr. Elm, peeking over the house top.
I'm telling you such capers, really should be stopped.

So don't let Miss. Willow pull the wool over your eyes,
If you do, when the strong winds blow, you're in for a big surprise.
It's very hard to judge a tree, until the strong winds blow,
Be watching then when the high winds sing, if you really want to know. 

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