As the willow tree bends, so do I,
as the willow weeps, my eyes can cry.
Roots to take hold, a place to belong,
my heart desires to sing a love song.
Branches that reach, by the river sway,
my arms long too for a brighter day.
With stand any storm, remaining strong,
looking for sunsnine to come along.
As the rose blooms with its petals sweet,
I await for love to bloom complete.
To open up, feel the warmth of sun,
smell love's fragrance when day has begun.
The rose protected by prickly thorns,
heartache comes quickly, it never warns.
The rose has its season, love does too,
both wither, die when their time is through.
The mighty oaks grows too high to see,
to see all this love inside of me.
Oblivious to the dying rose,
The oak dare not look where heartache grows.
You, the mighty oak, so strong and tall,
but you lost your strength and let me fall.
Mid winter's harsh winds, never to yield,
still stand proudly in snow covered field.
Posted on 7/15/2007 6:44:58 AM
hosh tay ussi din kho diye thay aur tu janta hai kis din 
thx
