Our old house has died
I know...I passed by yesterday
my snow angel yard
now crystal-balled and bird-bathed
the English ivy that held together the red brick walls
hacked down by some psychotic landscaper
I wonder who is living in my room ?
shall I dare enter the door by the yellow plaid kitchen ?
does the callbox still ring in the pantry ?
are there servants now who beckon to its call ?
the curtains are all closed
how dark it must be inside
the cracked pane from my baseball
now shiny new
english ivy
decorates front yard....
rattlesnake
The silence is broken
With the crunching of rocks
Beneath my feet while I
Carry a glass of tea,
Pen, and leather journal
To the picnic table
Under the gazebo;
Providing shade from the
Bright sunlight streaming down,
Laced with English ivy,
Light scented jasmine pearls,
A place I go to sit
Read, write, and meditate.
I reach and touch leaves and
Delicate bright colored
Petals of my garden.
Absolute peace lives here
In silence of my home.
The sounds of birds carried
By the breeze of birds that
Refuse to be ignored.
There was a time, a long,
Long time passed, I believed
In forever blessed you
And I would stay the same.
I think of tomorrow
And if it will arrive?
Do I have enough time
To fill the pages with
Enthralled memories
When you were in my life?
I asked you, time and time
Again to write all your
Memories, so they would
Keep on. Now it's up to
Me to remember the
Few whispers of your life
A life that was not mine.
7/17/2020
Through thickening haze,
I hear your voice call my name,
encouraging me, words beating
with my heart, guiding me home
as I stumble and crawl…
lost in a winding maze,
blinded by a smokescreen haze.
My life falls off-course; a sudden struggle,
I am suffocated by my own thoughts,
by perfectly manicured hedges,
by a world of betrayal…a world of deceit.
Yet, I live every moment with hope –
I see filtered rays of light,
feel their warmth on my skin,
a reminder of Heaven when I shiver within.
As I climb my leafy-green, prison walls,
my courage creates new heightened paths.
Like English Ivy weaving
through a garden lattice,
I grow taller, plan my escape,
hear your unwavering voice
drape over me with love and strength…
Your hand, outstretched,
seems just within my reach.
I focus on a life without walls,
a place I can learn and teach,
an open field of tomorrows…
vibrant, full, free.
Every singular cell, every breath I draw,
every soulful feeling…all of me,
with all of my flaws,
reaches out to all of you.
With a touch, I am saved…
I am found.
A new dawn breaks just within my reach.
Grasshoppers and katydids
Cactus, growing in the sand
Palm trees near the ocean
May-apples in the woodland
Parrots squawking in the jungle
Moss creeping over rotten logs
Luscious ferns filling forests
Huge dinosaurs, tiny tree frogs
Watercress and lettuce leaves
English ivy, honeysuckle vines
Grass snakes and lunar moths
Cedar, fir, spruce, and pines
Myriad grasses, filling meadows
And blanketing every lawn
Fields of corn and sugarcane
Fat caterpillars, tiny inchworms
The stem of every flower
the fat shell of every bean
Looking around, it would seem
Our Father favors the color green
The sun woke me today
for it’s a non-Denominational orb
a once upon a time God
The sun rose, as it is wont to…
at once playful and somber
taking in all of the Earth’s delights,
tickling the lids of a bifurcated globe
casting into darkness
as many as it elevates into light.
The sun woke me today
a peachy-pink glow
seeped through my lids
as the English ivy countered
with a slight bend of its vine
toward the dirty winter window.
On the dark side birds found their nests
babies found their cradles
most found needed rest
as the sun also brings the night.
From a moist veil of English Ivy
The renegade snapdragon lurks
By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX
The wings have been torn.
She falls to the ground.
Transformation ensues.
Her agony found.
Thick English ivy
hinders her song.
Now wounded, she's hiding
Like she's done all along.
The enemy's spotted,
at least in the depths
of this infested garden,
Hurt is hard to forget.
Cold winds again blowing.
She's dropped from the sky.
Doubts rising, Fear soaring.
Still yearning to fly.
So, she finds her solution
the way she knows how.
Retreating. Defeating
her disquietude now.
It should have been buried
but she couldn't let it die.
The full moon was out
and maybe that's why.
Scale the back fence, weary child
and run along
to your hidden place
Scabs upon skinny elbows
and school clothes ruined
deep green with grass stains
Comb through your hair, mother's boy
as she'd have it
handsome and tidy
English ivy spiraling
the iron gates
outside the garden
Make believe now, only son
the made up things
of an epic dream
When lightning strikes the Joshua tree
The air is frightfully clear.
The children quiet their
Jacks and Jump ropes
As the suburbia settles it's ears.
An ivy beneath a sycamore tree
Watching a fire with envy.
It wonders,
How on nature's rich, ripe earth
Is there a power
So quick to devour
The beauty and grace of a Joshua tree.
Why is it the branches crumble so
When Ivy's destruction is subtle and slow.
Why do fires spawn sputtered cries
When an English Ivy lays easy on the eyes.
A Mexican woman pours tears to the land.
She cries for the homeless
And weeps for the sand.
She mutters one word that no one will hear
She pleads that you feel it
Without dwindling fear.
When finally sleep comes
The children then stir
As they dream of a fire too bold to endure.
The woman will weep
As the fires grow.
She cries for the Joshua trees,
It's roots and it's leaves,
With a few tears for you,
And a couple for me.
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