Tuesday, May 06, 2008

the willow whistle

He sat cross legged under a tree
in a wood
In one hand a piece of willow, in the other
a shiny pocket knife.
He chipped, and smoothed and whittled
until he was sure
that his little wooden whistle was perfect
As perfect as could be
It was to be a token of his love
for a fair maiden
A reminder of his promise to always be there
whenever she called
But life can be cruel and one day

he wasn’t there
Years later a girl walked through the wood

searching for the place
where one passion filled summers day
she lost her willow whistle

let me read it to you!


  1. Very beautifully done. Hopefully someday they will meet each other yet again.

  2. I hope the fair maiden, finds the lost whistle and her lost love too...this was so lovely

  3. Yay, I knew you'd have to write more poems. Admit it, you're hooked now.

  4. too many questions! what happened to him? why didn't he make it? why is it her whistle she found and not his? where did her whistle come from?
    very well written and by the way, hubby's trousers wants to grow with those socks too...lol

  5. Sweet romantic gesture on his part...but where ever did he go! A new love maybe?

    Hugs Giggles

  6. Very nice. I like how you read it on video and love the english accent. Very different from the kiwi one