Lay me down where the willow weeps
near the deep waters blue
in the earthen woods, under oak
with the scent of you.
Where the quiet waters flow
dropping leaves to the stream
whispering secrets soft and low
and moss becomes our pillow.
So tenderly where shadows break
and time unwinds widdershins,
here the ferns curl round our feet
as though they too would keep.
Come, sit with me this quiet night
as your eyes surrender
to a willow touch,
and lay me down to sleep.
And here beneath the weeping tree
where light may never reach,
lay me down beneath the shade
and press your lips to me.
