Friday, May 15, 2009

Poem: Ivy


The tiny, tender tendrils grow
even here,
on the stone hard bricks,

in a place that would seem
to offer nothing,
no nourishment, soil or water,

only unyielding hardness,
and yet, the ivy grows,
nay, more than grows,

but flourishes and in time,
covers the brick wall like a blanket,
it's roots finding their way

deep into cracks unimagined,
like love's triumph
in the hardest heart.


The picture was taken at Poplar Forest, Thomas Jefferson's "other" house in Forest, Va. You can click on it for a larger version.



Derrick said...

Hi Tom,

I like this poem very much. That love should be able to conquer the hardest of hearts!

The lady in Red said...

Dear Tom, I loved this poem. You have a gift, congratulations,
Best wishes,