by Barbara Combs Williams

Created on: November 24, 2010

An old folktale says that love, money or even hope
Are hanging on trees like silky dew kissed leaves
All you have to do is pluck a great big hand full
And purposefully tack them onto your sleeves

Or maybe they’re big fat cocoons full of life
With a dainty butterfly ready to fly into your net
Go stalking through the dark forested trees
Bag up the biggest brightest ones you can get

For some, their dreams have come with little effort
For others it’s always the dumbed down deal
You are forever picking up the scattered pieces
Of a long suffering nightmare that seems all too real

But a honestly, is a great life just growing on trees
Like some juicy fruit for you to take a nice big bite
There is a price to choose whichever fate you desire
And you really have to put up an all-out fight

Well, I’m going to find me a big old knobby oak tree
Down in the glen where the cool waters flow
Hang all my life’s hopes on its rugged limbs
Take a deep breath, sit back and pray my dreams grow

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