The Willow Tree

(Genealogy)

I have searched the generations to grow my family tree,
Have grown a weeping willow, which is weeping tragedy.
When tending to my tree of PEARS, new branches to discover,
A deep rooted generation curse, I found buried undercover.

Skeletons in cupboards where nameless seeds were sown,
Young and single mothers and the father's who have flown
Accidents and suicides, stillborn babies by the score,
Mother's dead in childbirth and the fathers maimed by war.

There seems to be no doubt that there is a family curse,
From accident to suicide or something even worse.
I wonder why, when and where, such cruelty began,
and why a curse so cruel should be a legacy or plan.

Our roots, they creep like ivy, creeping over land and sea,
Those roots entwine around the globe to find new territory.
The curse it seems is without name so best you should not marry,
Beware of this genetic curse, run away and do not tarry.

Beware the weeping willow tree, the branches are endemic,
They curse all linking surnames for their genetic epidemic.
The tragedies which fall upon this unhappy family line,
are married to a tree of PEARS to include your name and mine.

I think perhaps the LONGSTAFFS or the JOHNSONS were to blame
and know at least one curse which does attach my married name.
I know the curse of JOHNSON, made in Scotland long ago,
But 'tis the curse of PEARS and LONGSTAFF, I must find and do not know.

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