A willow tree stands alone,

Along the glistening lake.

The wind shakes her branches bare,

Yet she stays awake.

She stays through winter colds,

And survives the summer droughts.

She stands tall and strong,

As spring goes on and on.

As fall returns,

The willow stands firm.

The children play,

In her shade.

They climb her branches,

And brake her twigs.

The men came to chop her down,

And use her for fire.

A willow tree she is no more,

Ash in the wind forevermore.

Though in the wind,

The willow loves all.