Ivied Poems | Examples

tip of the iceberg

Three hot shots unlike normal men
Form and fill this diagram Venn:
Luigi the threat
Forms an ivied set
With Elon + Don from U Penn

Tarnished Stones

A creosote frown mars
the stony landscape.
Time’s sundial remnant
a tilting chimney shadow
circling a homestead memory.

The foundation survives
the dream remains
tangled in ivied struggle
longing for the sound of footsteps
the creak of long silenced boards.

Uprooted stones, thrown together
solidly different
yet settling ever slowly
into a new place
bonding in a shared need.

Alone now
tarnished stones
pay silent homage
mark the passage
of timeless generations.



©8/8/2021

August 2021 NA'S Poetry Contest
Date judged 8/14/2021

Night's Abloom

Scarlet setting sun surrendered serene silvery moon,
And bold beauteous blackness is bursting with blooms!
In wide wilder windswept spaces without ivied walls,
Perennial pleasures recur, as a perfumed night falls.
Yellow canaries still croon in collaborative chorus,
Long after a laudable late afternoon's honeyed plus,
As capricious catching colors charm evening for us!

School Bodied

School's started up. sigh
I moved up a notch, of course
but virtual school sucks.

We should be walking
- no, swaggering - ivied halls
with new dominance.

Seniors rule, true,
but with one foot out the door
- Juniors set the tone.

One more viral theft,
that renders long traditions
unapproachable.

This virus changes lives
- bodied within its limits
- what future will rise?

The White Gazebo

It was a vibrant,sunlit spring,
When he surprised her with a ring!
In the most beautiful place of all,
In the white gazebo, next to the
heavily ivied, wall.
All her life she had dreamed of a
moment like this.
With her handsome prince on his
knee,implanting a sweet kiss.
Considerate he,kept staring into her 
tear-filled eyes!
They both knew their future ahead, 
would be a fulfilling surprise.
A home, the welcomed sound of children's feet.
A warm fireplace, was in their future to greet.


     September 13, 2020
             8:00pm PST

Lake Cliffs of Erie

Standing on the edge of a cliff
toking a smooth fat spliff
waiting to catch sight of a skiff
Floating it's way on by

Watching the majestic girl soar
no longer a beast of lore
wish for increasingly more
She passes a look on the fly

Brown with white head and tail
power that will never fail
enchanting how she sets sail
Makes me start to cry

Bounding stag hidden by ivied hoods
sneaky 'lil squirrel dashing with his goods
amber kits darting through the boxwoods
Violet western sun in the sky

Last Joy

An ancient castle’s rowdy crowds were thinned
By war and famine. Once its fortress fell
To fire, its people left it to the wind.
In time, the spirit of its aging well

Perceived the surging danger of decay
Which mired his quiet will to live within
The lonesome corner where his stonework lay. 
Soon, shadows stretched between him and his kin

Along the merry valleys. Then, one day, 
The winds of long ago began to fade
And many birds began to run away
From winter’s frozen curse, and gladly made

Their nests in trees that quenched their silent thirst
Around the dying well, which gladly gave
His breath of life and cradled up the first
Bright hopes in generations. Thus, the wave

Of solitude began to cede its space
To greener leaves of future joy and, soon,
The castle’s walls—now donned in ivied lace—
Became an altar to a rare and sweet perfume

Which spread its scent afar beyond the sea. 
On sensing this, the spirit blessed the ways
Of his ancestral home and, glad to see
Such joy, he breathed away his final days. 

Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com

Summertide

The dulcet rays of summertide extend
Their wings below the wavy crowns of trees,
Where slabs of stone adorn a path and blend
Their way across a kingdom owned by bees. 

Across the waterfall, a house of stone
Stands quiet by the ivied moorland, where
The human footstep often strides alone,
Though crescent moon beams always visit there. 

I’m like a raven on a branch of life, 
Distrustful of my fate and of my ways,
Yet knowing that more clever is the knife
Of time, than any fox who sings my praise. 

Alone with my own thoughts, protected by the heights 
Of oak and elm trees, where I lie in sleep,
I feel unknown: untouched by all the lights
Spread out by stars from their celestial keep. 

Across the fallows and the firths I fly
On ample whiffs of wistful stupor quelled
By the recess of chaos when I try
To tame fierce words whose ore was never welled. 

As rain and winds might shred tall peaks to dust, 
So does the world grow old and rise anew
Though, by sheer mutability, it must 
Reveal its secrets to a chosen few. 

Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com

Worship

Twilight's blessing; soft shades kiss 
the meadowlands adrift in blissful silence. 
Windows glow like welcome beacons 
hailing ships on storm-toss'd oceans 
sailing safe to harbor's rest, as villagers 
repose, so soon to sleep. 

At the edge of town the church is still. 
Strangled gravestones mark in mute remembrance 
struggles of an age gone by. 
Ivied walls and crumbling steeple, 
signs of venerable decay, where kinfolk meet 
to greet their Gods and beg forgiveness 
for their many indiscretions.

A haven for the wealthy and the ne'er-do-well alike, 
it welcomes differences of race and creed. 
All worship embraced in its sheltered precincts, 
all sinners accepted according to need.

The Morning Dew

the morning dew
it securely placed out
 upon
grass
yellow flowers
and the grand ol oak
A jingle can be heard form the distance
Then there appeared a winged creature
A fairy of sorts 
hovering
fluttering
the large mounted wings upon her back
Her purple eyes stare into the distance 
suddenly
her wings fluttered rapidly
She pushed 
towards the skies
then she suddenly stopped
Her pale white hands grab and fiddle within her parcel
 She closes her purple eyes
And whispers a prayer under her breath
Her hand then throws a unknown
Sparkling substance
Towards the mornings dew….
That’s securely placed out
 upon
grass
yellow flowers
and the grand ol oak
The earth began to tremble
Then appeared a dome of an ivied structure
The fairies face it uplifted into a smile
She whispered under her breath 
Finally ….
my new home….
within the morning dew

Worship

Twilight's blessing; soft shades kiss 
the meadow lands adrift in blissful silence. 
Windows glow like welcome beacons 
hailing ships on storm-toss'd oceans 
sailing safe to harbor's rest, as villagers 
repose, so soon to sleep. 

At the edge of town the church is still. 
Strangled gravestones mark in mute remembrance 
struggles of an age gone by. 
Ivied walls and crumbling steeple, 
signs of venerable decay, where kinfolk meet 
to greet their Gods and beg forgiveness 
for their many indiscretions.

A haven for the wealthy and the ne'er-do-well alike, 
it welcomes differences of race and creed. 
All worship embraced in its sheltered precincts, 
all sinners accepted according to need.

Connoisseuring Love

Connoissuering Love


A toast to love! Celebrating four decades of togetherness
I raised the crystal glass of plum wine sparkling with love
Swirling the wine years of unflagging unity of two souls  
I blushed in retrospect over years of pride of brewing it
In every nook and corner of the cellars in our hearts
The ethereal blood of gods gently poured into our every pore
Releasing the trapped essence of heavenly love
I held the wine to my berry lips and inhaled
The petrichor of romance one drop at a time
Its fragrance igniting every cell to linger on
Sip by sip scrooping every moment of bantering
The honeyed and the ivied to the perfumery of divine love.


October 15,  2015
Contest: Screwed 7
Sponsor: Rob Carmack

Redemption

Twilight's blessing. 
Soft shades kiss the meadow lands 
adrift in blissful silence. 
Windows glow like welcome beacons 
hailing ships on storm-toss'd oceans 
sailing safe to harbor's rest, as villagers 
repose, so soon to sleep. 

At the edge of town the church is still. 
Strangled gravestones mark in mute remembrance 
struggles of an age gone by. 
Ivied walls and crumbling steeple, 
signs of venerable decay, where kinfolk meet 
to greet their Gods and beg forgiveness 
for their many indiscretions.

A haven for the wealthy and the ne'er-do-well alike, 
it welcomes differences of race and creed. 
All worship embraced in its sheltered precincts, 
all sinners accepted according to need.

The Ghost of One Who Yawns Addresses Yale

You would not have dared look into my face
When it wore flesh and scowled
Upon the world your people forced on me, 
You sons of Mammon,
You children of Ivied Privilege.

I was Terror to the Mexican,
The name their tongue gave me
Became a word for courage in your own -
Yet you pampered ones,
Who would never see
The troglodyte face of battle,
Sending others in your place for that -
Would dare to steal my very bones
To serve your ceremonies to wealth and ease.

My skull and bones may be 
In your weak, profane hands, 
But they have never served your ends.
Even in death I yawn
At what you consider power,
At the piles of shifting sands
You move about to raise your little thrones.

I lived and laughed where you would have died;
The Earth my throne
The Sky my crown.
My remains are not for the likes of you,
Not pieces for your foolish games.

Gothalay bids you send his bones home where they belong

Shame yourselves no more!

     Little boys,
     Playing with fire,
     Begging to be burned!

Redemption

Twilight's blessing. 
Soft shades kiss the meadowlands 
adrift in blissful silence. 
Windows glow like welcome beacons 
hailing ships on storm-toss'd oceans 
sailing safe to harbor's rest, as villagers 
repose, so soon to sleep. 

At the edge of town the church is still. 
Strangled gravestones mark in mute remembrance 
struggles of an age gone by. 
Ivied walls and crumbling steeple, 
signs of venerable decay, where kinfolk meet 
to greet their Gods and beg forgiveness 
for their many indiscretions.

A haven for the wealthy and the ne'er-do-well alike, 
it welcomes differences of race and creed. 
All worship embraced in its sheltered precincts, 
all sinners accepted according to need.

• Short Ivied Poems
• Famous Ivied Poems
• Best Ivied Poems
• Read Ivied Poems
• Long Ivied Poems
• Ivied Quotes