IVY BREEZE - A POEM BY A.H. SCOTT

Ivy Breeze 




I am IvyThen, there is the windWind of the sun is not like that of the moonWind of the moon is not like that of the sunWind can be stillWind can cause a commotionWind encapsulates Ivy with tempered careWind gently blows Ivy’s cells so spectacularlyWind motions the vane to quarters ever so variedWind gusts when need beWind is fresh without staleness of airBreeze excites the seasons of moodsBreeze can be unmoving, yet makes Ivy swirlBreeze can be coupled with raindrops that brings a rainbow from aboveBreeze has a temperature both high and lowBreeze shifts quick and slowBreeze is what this flower knowsAnd, so with the compass of life it goes…..He is the cool breeze teasing my vinesHe is that hot whisper that curls my petalsHe is the whistle beneath my underbrushHe is the bristle rolling my leavesHe is the roar that shakes my treeI am Ivy and I know the breezeBreeze along my branches blows my topBreeze along my cascading vines is ever so fineBreeze along my plush leaves never deceivesYet, when wind penetrates my bud, Ivy blossomsAnd, I know him as suchHE is the wind
A.H. Scott7/8/14
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Merry-Joseph Blondel - “Portrait Of A Woman Seated Beneath A Tree” (1830)

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