Ivy-covered garden,
soft evening breeze,
whistles through the beaten wooden trellis,
that once supported the climbing vine,
now parted from the feeble frame.

Luscious green leaves,
stems grow strong.
Trellis yearns for yesterday,
when days were longer,
filled with innocence,
garden now full of abundance,
overgrown with bittersweet memories.

Ivy once a young sprightly sprig,
now elegant,
overrun and overtired,
from her trellis.

Jasmine perfumes the sweet,
thick summer air.
Ivy’s memories,
hanging onto her mighty trellis,
strong reliable foundation,
dancing together,
season after season.

Days grew shorter,
the wood grew older,
ivy thirsted with lust and desire,
to spread her leaves.

In the garden,
the trellis still stands,
rain falls down his cheeks.
A smile cracks in the wood,
a smile as wide,
as its rounded arch.

The ivy still beautiful,
after all these years.
Worn, tired and broken,
faithful remains her trellis.