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Posts Tagged ‘ivy’

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If you were an ivy vine

would you spread

across the foothills,

wind your way

through sharp pitched mountains

curling ’round

the fallen log

where it bridges the muddy slough?

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Would you wend your way

around deep lakes and

through the tangled valleys

to the stand of trees

where you’d remember me?

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And would you wrap

around my trunk and

spiral through my branches

as you followed every curve

to the top

where we both

could touch the sky?

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And at noon

when you felt

the warm lips

of the sun

upon your leaves

would you sink

your comely roots

into my bark?

I think you’d grow on me.

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(c) 2013, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post from 2013)

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Ivy

(just another oldie – revised)

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untitled

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Her roots are caught

in rock-bound earth

but her dreams coil up

the weathered trunk

of an old elm tree.

Higher,

yet higher

they weave through branches

seeking the sun

till finally one dawn

they burst from containment

calling the name

of a lover in flight

on the edges

of all that could be.

.

(c) 1996, 2014  Betty Hayes Albright

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(image from free clip art file)

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.

If you were an ivy vine

would you spread

across the foothills, and

wind your way

through sharp pitched mountains

curling ’round

the fallen log

where it bridges

the muddy slough?

.

And would you wend your way

around deep lakes and

through the tangled valleys

to the stand of trees

where you’d remember me?

.

Would you wrap

around my trunk and

spiral through my branches

as you followed every curve

to the top

where we both

could touch the sky?

.

And at noon

when you felt

the warm lips

of the sun

upon your leaves

would you sink your roots

into my bark?

.

I think you’d grow on me.

 .

.

(c) 2013, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

.

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Her roots are coiled

in rock-bound earth

but her dreams circle up

the ancient trunk

of a sworn elm tree.

She winds

through the branches,

bursts from submission

and cries out the name

of a lover in flight

on the edge

of all that could be.

.

(c)  1996,  2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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Her roots are coiled

in rock-bound earth

but her dreams curl up

the mossy trunk

of an old elm tree.

Higher, yet higher

they weave through branches

seeking more sun

till finally one dawn

they burst from containment

calling the name

of a lover in flight

on the edges

of all that can be.

.

(c) 1996, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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