Trees that bend and quake in the wind
Yet, seldom do they break a limb
They toss and flail
And let leaves sail
Like drops of water
From a young girl's hair
Shaking her head
After taking a shower
The young trees take delight in this
As if the wind were made for bliss
But the old trees seem to creak and moan
As if they'd rather be left alone
While the wind just seems to take delight
In testing them against its might
Which is stronger, the wind or the tree?
Both of them seem weak to me
The tree is too set in its ways to move
While the wind always seems to have something to prove
But the young trees seem to understand
There's a time to bend
And a time to stand

Many times I wished
That I
Could be a carefree
Butterfly
Though surely
They must have some care
You'd never know it
By the way
They float on air
Viewing them
At one quick glance
You'd say
They lived their lives
By chance
But taken over time
You'd know
There's order
In their ebb and glow
But I think it suits
The butterflies
To keep their order
In disguise
So "ordered" men
Like you and I
Can marvel
At the way they fly

My wife is a fragile flower
I support her with all my strength
And hold her fast against the wind
Sometimes I bow
To ice and rain
As humans will
To vice and pain
But 'tis then that she leans over me
Offering her beauty
Until the sun comes out again
Then I lift her high above me
And offer her the glory
My wish
When time
Has left my life
An hour
Is this
That I
Am with my wife
My flower

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