The Cottonwood Tree
Through my bedroom window-
A cool refreshing breeze,
Would come along with moon glow-
Through the Cottonwood leaves;
The gentle flutters of her leaf,
Lulled my heart to sleep…
And in a moments’ brief-
My soul was hers to keep!
Then when daylight came,
An Oriole would claim the tree;
And me, just the same
Of the shade over me!
Now, I miss that Cottonwood tree
Which was part of my childhood;
Often, I recall her memory
In those quiet evenings of that neighborhood.
© PoetryPublishing.Net
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