The Sad Willow

Down To The Wood


You will find me drinking at the banks of flowing streams, my memories rushing from me to the sea.
Chew my young twigs to clear your head – remember, I invented aspirin.
My pliable branches made your baskets and your fish-traps before England was an island. Later, I made gunpowder to defend or overthrow our people.  How strange, then, that I am best and far most widely known for defending not your heads from pain, or your bellies from starvation, or your lives from overthrow and death – but defending the stumps of England’s game of gentlemen and players on a Sunday afternoon.

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