The wall made it easy

The wall made it easy

For the Ivy.

Climbing comes hand in hand

With growing,

And the wind

Playing a hand jive

With the broad leaves

Ensured it clung on

Tighter,

With every passing day.

It moves, hypnotically,

Billowing out,

Dancing

With each gentle gust.

Ten thousand heads nodding

To an anthemic,

Spring time song.

A stadium crowd

Swaying in time to the music,

Standing

On one another’s shoulders.

Angels with painted faces,

Displaying variegation

Like individual tattoos.

The wall may have seen better days,

Old stonework crumbling with age,

But it is home for some,

And shelter to many.

Some of them are a little

Too old to rock and roll,

Even the Robin

Has been strutting

His red breast for so long

His rockin’ days

Are almost over.

He may not make it through

Next winter and

Into another spring.

Today might be

A last chance to hear him sing

His favourite tunes.

I just sit and listen,

Tempted to ask for the oldies

But he likes to

Change his repertoire

From time to time,

Spice things up,

Spring a few surprises,

And who am I to stop him.

He has earned his day

In the sun.

Tomorrow he may be gone

But the wall will

Still remain.

It is a buttress,

Mattress and home,

And will keep

The wind from scouring

All evidence

Of everyday life

Away.

For a little longer

Than just

Another day.