Best Ivy Covered Poems
Tonight while watching candles glow
I hear faint sounds of cricket's tune
Where near the Mississippi's flow
Reflects the dawning of the moon.
My mind is wrapped in reverie
Of summer nights I shared with you.
Of lazy evening's cool iced tea
Those peaceful nights when love was new.
Do you remember when we met?
Crystal raindrops began to fall.
You sheltered me, I can't forget.
'Twas near the ivy covered wall.
But now the bloom of love is gone
And you have moved so far away.
You broke my heart, then you moved on
One day a love will make you pay.
Yet when I dream, I dream of you
And wish that I could rewind time.
When we were young and love was new
And summer nights were so sublime.
Tonight while watching candles glow
I hear faint sounds of cricket's tune
Where near the Mississippi's flow
Reflects the dawning of the moon.
4-26-17
I bequeath to you my poems,
For words are all I own--
May the images of snow and fall
Bring you comfort when alone.
And I will leave you all of it;
The moonlight on the moor--
As well the quiet, leafy wood,
Or a sunbathed distant shore.
And among the rhyme and imagery;
The metaphor, and theme--
You'll read of rose and morning dew,
Of midnight naps, and dream.
And somewhere in between the lines
The fantasy turns real--
So take these words I proffer you,
And touch, and taste, and feel.
Amazing are the things you'll see,
Like the ivy-covered wall--
Or the icy streams of diamond
And the spill of waterfall.
So enchanting is the moonlight,
So too the autumn breeze--
Oh how I'll miss the butterflies
And the stand of ancient trees.
So precious is the lily pond,
The wildflowers too--
Take comfort in the song of rain
And the pansies playful hue.
How amazing is the hummingbird
In uncertain, frenzied flight--
Reminds me of the dawn and eve
As they argue, day or night.
And in the valley of the glen,
Where stands the steeple church--
There remains a knee-high meadow,
And a lovely stand of birch.
So Immerse yourself in wondering,
Set your spirit to the sky--
Behold as children, puffs of cloud;
The bee and butterfly.
And let your palette taste the wind,
Hear the quiet of the snow--
While delighting in the jasmine;
The sweetest scent I know.
Take my words and nurture them,
Kindly revel in my dream--
And keep alive the buttercup,
As well the mountain stream.
May you sleep the night, and linger;
That my dream may carry on--
Give life to every word and thought
Till the images are gone.
May you celebrate the beauty;
May you open every door--
Till the sun is swallowed by the sea,
And my poems are, no more.
~M
`
Like block shaped wheels our lives stumble at the chapters we write
Corners seem dark and teeming with doubt,
alleyways call in echoes of our name,
as if tempting us to crawl when we cannot walk
“Fear begins the parade at our fragile hearts”
Shades are drawn and slotted with eyes watching,
voices ring the halls of the buildings looming large,
rumors of pointed fingers find our ears in colander fashion,
dripping fear at our feet
“Waves conduct sound, crashing vividly as we hear”
We cry,
hoping these tears will somehow wash the pain,
fill the gutters and move out to sea,
casting waves upon unsuspecting shores
“Wishes…more waste than want…at least of these eyes”
When of the shadows a touch,
softly at first, then strong upon our shoulders fall…
comfort leaps to our hearts in sing song praise,
wishes become goals and finish line adventures
“What is this light, soft yet sure, found within”
We are not alone, darkness hints at light
and butterflies fill our air with prism’d colors and soft breezes
collecting on our damp cheeks and drying the aftermath
of our understanding of reality
“Dreams of these nightmares fade into happiness”
We find footprints in the dirt…two which are not our own,
closely, yet affectionately following our way and bringing direction
to our dreams, yet the nightmares still flourish
but we do not feel so alone
“Fences built may keep us in yet… may keep us out”
For this hand, from a distance,
climbing mountains and fording rivers
leads our hearts to the safety of love just beyond the bricked wall,
the ivy covered monolith, the chain link disaster
which once stood locked
“Finding that a breath may exhale peace…again”
Now stands open an arbor of hibiscus blooms
and teapot pourings fore our eyes, open and hopeful of the coming truth
once lost beyond our dreams…and we breathe
for it feels right to breathe while standing in the darkness…not alone
”True friendship will always find us and comfort us in the darkness”
The last Night of October
It's that time, again, the last night of October,
the last glow of twilight nearly gone.
Children race out and about,
winding through the streets and alleys.
Brightly colored costumes,
mom's old wig, dad's old sport coat.
All hoping to fill their bags with the prize:
Candy bars, bag of licorice, candy corn, pop corn balls,
apples, Bit-O-Honey, and Pez dispensed joy.
Some, their favorites, to greedily keep their own,
others to give to a poor sibling, who stayed home with the mumps.
With faces painted, steel themselves, for the gauntlet ahead,
the familiar street now somehow strange in the gloom,
to walk past hallowed ground,
All was quiet, save for the rustling of the leaves.
The daylight gone, now cloaked in Stygian darkness..,
ahead lie, the old grave yard.
Raucous laughter, which echoed only moments before,
trailed off into whispered murmurs.
All eyes from the once merry band looked now,
to their leader, albeit quickly chosen,
the tallest, and oldest, and bravest.
He too, resolve waning, felt the grip of those things unknown,
in the shadowy mist,
heart now beating faster, he chides the little ones,
for being such silly ninnies.
Just now, what was that! What was that sound?!?
Was that an owl? Or, maybe Old Man Godfrey, come back from his
now disturbed rest!
Young sister's hands clasped brother's, tightly,
and brother's, impishly taking the clammy worts,
decidedly grew, just a bit older, wiser,
and braver in kind.
Now turning the corner at Elm street, they walked at even pace.
With heads bowed low, mid-block, each chanced a glance, only to look away,
from the wrought iron gate.
Young heads, did now envision mystic spectres, ghouls and fantastic phantoms, with jaws agape, smiling in toothy cheer, bony fingered hands reaching through the heavy bars.
Swallowing dryly, daring just one quick glance back,
at the narrow lane winding, into the stone covered grounds,
dotted with ivy covered trees of willow and oak.
Back into the world of the living, back to
All Hallow's Eve.
-Happy Halloween
Take me to the other side,
A place where I can run and hide
A magic place where dreams come true
A perfect garden with a view;
An ivy covered arch hovers above the gate
Then picture roses of various colors and shape
Weeping willows spread throughout
Connected by vines and moss, to keep heat out;
Flowers as far as the eye can see
Spread upon a sea of green,
And this isn’t just any shade of green
It’s the deepest green, you’ve ever seen,
Downy, white, clouds, way up high
Watch as they go floating by
Many shapes leave no doubt
This is surely art, disguised as clouds!
Over the horizon,
Painted across the bright, blue sky
The most beautiful rainbow catches my eye
Red, green, yellow, purple, and, blue
Shades of these colors, so vibrant and true;
And if all of this sounds heavenly to you
Then wait until sunset, and enjoy the view
A view that is different from anywhere else
For this sun sets over land that’s been blessed…
A Chicago Cubs-Fan Prayer!
In nomine patri et fili spiritu of Ron Santo
Let us all give thanks for Ernie Banks
Let us play!
Our Father, who art in Wrigley Field
Hallowed be thy ivy covered Brick-house walls
Thy new stadium will come, the owners will be done
On the mound, sit ‘in with the bleacher-bums or your rich roof-top owner friends
Give us this day our daily dread but remove those lights that so offend
Forgive us our trespasses and cubs left on bases
As we forgive those teams who trespass those places
And Caray us on and win the pennant races
All’s we’re ask ‘in for Lord, is a couple a runs
Then deliver us a world series, before God loses HIS patience
Amen!
A Chicago Cubs-Fan Prayer Answered!
In nomine patri et fili spiritu of Ron Santo!
Let us all give thanks for Ernie Banks!
Let us play........, two!
Our Father, who art in Wrigley Field
Hallowed be thy ivy covered Brickhouse walls!
Thy new stadium will come, the owners will be done
On Clark and Addison, as it is, to sit in the sun with thy bleacher-bums!
Give us this day our daily dread but remove those lights that so offend!
Forgive us our trespasses and Cubs left on bases, as we forgive those
Teams who trespass these hallowed places!
Caray us on and win the pennant race, all’s we’re ask ‘in for Lord,
Is a couple a more runs!
Most of us can't afford a dog or beer in here, but a least da cops is really
Nice around here!
Lead us not into temptation and deliver us to a World Series, while were still young!
So grab a beer and join the cheer, cause we ain't leav'in Wrigley
Till "Yogi" say's it's over in here!
AMEN!
Mr. Cub, take me out to the ballgame!
A Chicago Cubs-Fan Prayer!
In nomine patri et fili spiritu of Ron Santo
Let us all give thanks for Ernie Banks!
Let us play, TWO!
Our Father, who art in Wrigley Field Hallowed be thy name on those ivy covered Brick-house walls
Thy new stadium will come, the owners will be done
On earth, as it is in heaven to sit in the sun with the bleacher-bums
Give us this day our daily dread, but remove those lights that some say offend
And forgive us our trespasses for trading our best hitters and aces
As we forgive those same players who then come back, and rub it in our faces
Lead us not, into tenth inning disgraces, and worst of all, with men left on bases
Deliver us from evil and finishing in last place
And Caray us on to win the pennant race
All's we're ask ‘in for is a couple a more runs with three men on base
Bring us oh Lord a world series trophy, or it won't be long before were all dopey!
Our faith be rich, but our pockets are poor, because most of us can't afford a dog or a couple a beers in here!
Our spirit lives on and we know no fear, so whaddya say we lose the, "wait till next year"!
Mr. Cub is rounding third and headed for home, one more time on this hallowed ground, but we still need a closer for a Cubs World Series win!
Ronny made the call to one of their friends, "send in the saver, Ernie can't do it all"!
Now the "LORD's" in the line-up, and Mr. Cub just handed him the ball!
Let us all give thanks for Ernie Banks! AMEN!
Ivy-covered sheepskin, firmly in hand
the confident graduate, square-jawed and tan
Pulled offers from prestigious start-ups all over the land
a year later he played lead guitar, hat in hand
He, ever-grateful to his folks for those music lessons
They, bleary-eyed from all the therapy sessions
Yet Patience will out, and Time always tells
Perhaps by thirty-five he'll own an oil well
The smell of hot dogs, fresh grass, and stale beer
A constant dull drone from the Bleacher Bums
“Take Me out to the Ball Game”, sung aloud
Infield raking dust, by busy grounds crews
Seventh inning stretch at old Wrigley Field
Ivy covered walls, with a losing streak
Uniforms with faces of baby bears
The rival redbirds are taking the field
Cub fans begin to return to their seats
Fresh from a line to relief and last call
A solid round of boos from the bleachers
The batter warms in the on deck circle
At times, there is no better place to be
Chicago on a hot sunny day, free
© Copyrights G. Jones, 2008
River Bank Cottage...............
There are days within my life thus far,
I would gladly leave behind.
Though the day we saw this lovely place,
Will never leave my mind.
River Bank Cottage, is up for sale,
Was the sign we saw that day.
And what I saw before my eyes,
Truly took my breath away.
Ivy covered window-sills,
Tulips by a stream.
Water that sparkled like cold champagne,
Befitting any dream.
Crocus in abundance,
And the daff's bright endless glow.
An old dishevelled watermill,
Where the silent waters flow.
Hearing cuckoos in the distance,
Scents of spring-time on the breeze.
The untamed shadows from the sun,
Danced among the willow trees.
Heaven on earth we saw that day,
Happiness so true.
I knew this place before our eyes,
Was meant for me and you..........
College
Study in your little garret.
Try, in your earnest youth,
To learn the ins/outs
Of mice and men, stars and storms,
The ways of your own future heart.
Fear and Motivation
Await just beyond the ivy covered walls;
So take this time,
Go to underground movies,
Heckle the Bible Thumpers come to save you from your mind.
A little learning can be dangerous, yes
But never so bad as none.
So you play Devil's Advocate over bad coffee,
Worse food
In featureless halls
While you bankrupt yourself and your parents.
This is the time of sex experiments upon yourself,
Neurons firing wildly under the influence of chemicals and sleeplessness,
Until one day you wake up,
Pad into some bland communal lavatory,
Splash water on your face to clear the clouds,
Look up into your young impassive face
And at last begin to study,
REALLY study.
Then somewhere a gate swings softly open,
And a true thinker stumbles forth
Into the growing light
Of the rest of their life.
there are some who speak of ties
to hairy apes of ancient past
while others feel a certain kinship
toward the jawbone of an ass
perhaps such things are better left
to scholars and their kind
to solve the greatest riddles
to ever plague the human mind
yet for all the wisest reasoning
brilliant minds have ever done
existence owes no explanation-
of itself to anyone
and still we seem preoccupied
with the fossilized remains
of ponderous beast who roamed at large
on dark primeval plains
yet there are those who simply recognize
the beauty life endows
and cherish every precious glimpse
whenever chance allows
and therefore need no seminars
held in ivy covered halls
in order to appreciate-
the wonder of it all.
tradition-drenched halls
ivy-covered walls
dearest alma mater
why'd you flatter
me with this sham degree
I've no skills, no connections
my classmates take their meals
in the house of corrections...
you took my money, awakened false hopes
hooked me on oxycontin, a pill-popping dope
October 30th, 1863
Halloween eve, before the clock turned the day- almost midnight.
The moon just right, full, and nearly hidden behind a thin layer of dark grey cloud. A perfect day for a walk through the cemetery, I thought. Minding my own business, keeping quietly sound, I walked gingerly around all the burial sites reading the etchings inscribed in the stone by the survived loved ones. Wilfred White- 1862-1882 "Here he lay- R.I.P." is all it read. Another-
Dorothy White- 1865-1882 rests beside her brother.
Behind them- two stone nameplates embedded in the ivy-covered dirt. Belonging to- Wilfred White Sr. and beloved wife Emily.
Suddenly, a voice...I heard. The sound of shoveling soon began to echo causing my knees to shake uncontrollably with every scooping sound. A screeching sound that of a chalkboard rose the hairs behind my neck. With the clouds, now completely gone, and the sky even darker, something very scary almost made my eyeballs pop out of their sockets. The moon and stars completely faded out of sight and the sky was pitch black. The shoveling continued and the screeching got louder. My curiosity could bear no more, I had to walk through and around the graves to get to the corner of the yard where the old beat-up cottage sleeps. That is where I heard the noises come from. As I got closer, I saw an old man with a shovel in his hand. Through the filfthy window of the creepy looking cottage, I saw two children playing tic-tac-toe on a chalkboard. Then, out of nowhere, a humped black cat inched slowly towards me, with every step he took did I become more terrified. And I thought It was a perfect night for a walk through the graveyard.
I was wrong. In fact, I was dead wrong.
So, I did the only thing l could do...
I disappeared and went back to rest again...
beneath the stone dated 1862-1882
~The ghost of Wilfred White
A Ghost Story Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Angela Tune
1/8/2022