Need some feed back

*long form warning*

I wrote this poem and didn't end up caring for it.  Just interested in seeing if any one likes it or not. Probably end up scrapping it if not. I've considered scrapping the murder plot too, I don't really like how it turned out and it's rather generic. 

"The Wisteria's Lament"

111 years have I stood, 

Standing solemn guard at the edge of the wood, 

Having nothing to hold dear, 

Long have I stood here, 

And long will I remain, 

I have the sun shine in the rain, 

Heard the loon cry in pain, 

And the raven with disdain. 

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, 

My iron frame long covered with rust.

From the dust I have grown, 

My sins I cannot atone, 

To the dust one day I shall return,

And my weary watch will adjourn.

Vague memories of my birth, 

Of a time with joy and mirth, 

The day that I was born, 

Sometimes I treat that day with scorn, 

When in the dead of winter I am sad, 

Or when in bloom I am glad. 

Her name was Gayle.

She was thin and frail, 

She clothed herself always with violet hue, 

As in bloom I also do. 

She planted my seedling here, 

And fed me with cold water clear, 

A single tear stood in her hazel eye, 

While she at my side did cry.  

“For Daddy.” She said in mournful tone, 

And she went off all alone. 

Frightened I had been as I watched her go, 

I was a little sprite afraid so. 

A little child alone in the dark, 

Standing guard at the gate of a park. 

But leave me long she did not, 

And so forever I thought,

That I would have a friend, 

Little did I know that all things have their end.

So the ages on they rolled,

And my friend began to grow old, 

Fiery red hair faded to gray, 

As did the summer’s day, 

I grew tall and leafed in green, 

Til from afar my plumage could be seen. 

The seasons again and again they past, 

Til old Gayle came no more at last. 

I wept bitterly with lavender tears, 

And again my nights returned my old fears. 

Oh there were others in the park now and then, 

But none their affections I could win, 

My gentle beckons they could not see, 

For none knew me like did she. 

There were the birds that nested in my boughs, 

And the strays with howls and meows, 

In them I had to find my solace, 

Despite my pain I knew they had no malice.

So I kept Asa Johnson's memory, 

Imbued as it was within me. 

I remember the day Old Man Willow 

First called to me with a waving billow, 

He called to me in a voice so sweet, 

“At long last you and I must meet.”

And so he and I were one, 

Spending long hours watching the travelling sun, 

Watching the daily race being run, 

Again and again til it was almost fun, 

A handsome twosome we continued on, 

Until one fall day the twosome was gone, 

It became a threesome you see, 

For our merry band increased to three.

Widow Spider was her name, 

She and we were one in the same.

Misunderstood and with great loss, 

She made her bed in Willow’s moss,

Quietly she would spin her webs, 

Above the pond that waves and ebbs. 

Oldman Willow became unwell one winter morn, 

His trunk became gnarled and torn, 

Leaves and branches littered the frozen ground, 

And soon he could no longer make a sound.

Come springtime he was dead, 

The violet tears once again fell from my head, 

And though the sun shined down upon us, 

The Spider and I retreated to darkness. 

Then came the terrible day, 

When our friend would topple and lay, 

Face down upon the water’s fray, 

Neath the sun’s mocking golden ray. 

Widow Spider wept every night, 

Her old pain did reignite. 

She lay in his tangled root, 

And I likened my lost joy to soot, 

Nothing encouraging could I find, 

For nothing much went on in my mind. 

But worse will come to worse,

And Death will come in his hearse,

And his hearse was big and white, 

With shiny gleam that burned the sight.

He came with axes and with saws, 

With sharpened teeth and gaping maws. 

Widow Spider barely escaped the flame, 

That made our friend the ashes he became. 

Shivering in the cold she stood neath me 

And her tears were plain to see. 

“I cannot stay here, I am sorry, 

I have a cousin who dwells near the quarry, 

I must go to live over there, 

I cannot go on living here.”

I gave her my blessing, 

And our goodbye was long in its cessing.

But then she was gone.

And my time of friendship was done. 

I have stood alone ever since, 

I try to remember the year and I wince,

I linger on in my grief and pain, 

The suns burns me and withholds my rain. 

So I stand and I wait, 

I pray to my god that I call fate, 

Perhaps someone one day will come, 

But alas the years have made me numb. 

The decades pass like restless sleep, 

The weeds and disrepair began to creep, 

Unto my blearly lonesome bed, 

Til the weary roses became dead, 

And the birds refused to sing their song, 

For you see, they had all gone. 

Winter’s cold cruel bite, 

Came with unyielding spite, 

The coldest yet in my long memory, 

But brought still no death for me. 

The little pond froze to stone, 

And I stood watch all alone,

Seldom came man to my door anymore, 

They had found more exciting score.

So much surprise it found me, 

The day they came from beyond the lea, 

The boy and girl with cheeks of rose, 

Who went and played on the water froze.

Laughing and frolicking were they, 

Til long and late into the day. 

At last sat they down beneath my barren frame, 

And sat entwined one in the same. 

The girl whispered to her dear, 

As she leaned to his waiting ear, 

“I’ve something to tell you love,”

As she crooned like a turtle dove,

“I am going to have your baby.”

Suddenly in anger and rage flew he. 

He shoved her against my metal cold, 

His hand she reached out to hold, 

But he slapped her away, 

And then he loudly did say, 

“It is not mine and you know it, 

Get away you lying harlot!”

Stunned I watched the blood stain the snow, 

From the knife the girl did not know,

Was hidden under winter layer, 

Under the scarf of the now slayer. 

Quickly he fled, 

And left her corpse there dead, 

But soon he returned a pipe in hand, 

Her corpse he dragged left a stripe,

A scarlet stain of abhorrent gore, 

As I watched in silent horror.

Broke the ice did the pipe, 

And then the depth did embibe, 

Her pale blue flesh and open eye,

Til at the bottom did she lie.

He stormed off as suddenly as cathey had came,

Continued on then I in shame. 

Who could I tell with no voice? 

I remained silent I had no choice. 

Came the spring and I stood watch at the gate,

Where that girl met her fate. 

I wept for her again and again, 

Sometimes in anger though it vain,

For they girl who would died in so much pain, 

Forgotten by the sun and rain. 

When spring came the lake thawed,

And it turned out the jilted lover’s plan was flawed.

For on the second day of lovely May,

On the water’s dark surface did she lay,

And the scent soon brought them in,

Like gnats swarming in the glen,

To the body at the water's edge 

And she they did dredge,

From the water’s cold grasp,

She may find her justice perhaps.

But without a clue? 

Oh what could these blue men do? 

I wept bitterly without a song,

For the great wrong,

That happened here in the cold, 

I wonder if that boy will grow old, 

Will they find out his great sin? 

Or will in the end he win? 

Alas no help am I,

Though believe me I try, 

But those who pass cannot understand my cry, 

They hear only my limbs dry, 

Shaking o'er head in perceived breeze, 

And my mind knots with unease, 

Again the winter comes to freeze, 

And the spring again to bloom, 

Still I watch o’er this tomb,

This empty place of hurt,

This graveyard of barren dirt. 

Asa Johnson long forgotten, 

Old Man Willow’s roots long rotten,

The dead roses in a silent row,

The tainted water rippling to and fro, 

The moss that once did grow, 

Where Widow Spider once did sleep, 

And in her tapestry did creep. 

One hundred and one years now, 

Maybe this year fate will allow, 

Me to die and have some peace, 

And this watch of mine cease.