The vines, that have been so leafy
for so many years (seven)
since they started coming over my fence,
are now a tangle of bare branches.
For so many years (seven)
they have spread to cover this side,
and flowered twice a year (being two vines).
Since they started coming over my fence,
I have been training them, winding them
in and out through each other, thickly.
Are, now, a tangle of bare branches
more and more replacing the abundant green?
But along the top there are still flowers.
(But by the time I took the photo, the flowers were gone.)
Linked to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #330
(But by the time I took the photo, the flowers were gone.)
Linked to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #330
And still besuty springs forth. Wonderfully done
ReplyDeleteWhew, what a lot of changes seven years can bring! I agree with Martin...beauty still springs forth.
ReplyDeleteLovely to have that edging your yard. I have a clematis that has more branch visible than leafy green, but when the flowers bloom, it is lovely.
ReplyDeletelove the still flowering oldie :)
ReplyDeleteThat seven in parentheses works so well...
ReplyDeleteReflects the lovely joy of gardens.
ReplyDeleteThis is so beautiful, Rosemary ❤️ such a tangible sense of longing in your verse.
ReplyDeleteLots of love,
Sanaa
It is good to work alongside a plant that knows what it wants to do. It is good that it thanks you for your effort too by flowering. But don't let is get too bossy you may have to clip its wings (so to speak) now and then.
ReplyDeleteSeven is a magic number..as is the ability of the barest vines to yield life..
ReplyDeleteThe last line made me smile. All things are good (and possible) while flowers still bloom above the madness.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely guest coming over the fence :-)
ReplyDeleteZQ
those vines, they are like a friend to you. see how you fret over them. :)
ReplyDeleteHa ha, yes.
DeleteThe aging of the vines is somehow the most telling... but still they come and welcome you... hope they will gain strength again.
ReplyDeleteFlowers bloom & then disappear.
ReplyDeleteWords & poems remain here :)
Smile
DeleteAge does take its toll, doesn't it? But beauty does remain, however changed.
ReplyDeleteThere's hope in this poem, where you look forward to new blossoming, luv that about your vines
ReplyDeleteHave a nice Sunday
much love...
the vines are symbolic of hope in the journey which took(seven) years to nurture and grow into their own work of art.
ReplyDeleteOnce again, you remind me of my raspberry bushes. They grew and spread for seven years, and we enjoyed their generous bounty. When the snow melted, and I could walk out to the garden in that seventh year, they were all gone, nary a trace of their existence remained. Not a single twig. A mystery.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
Good gracious!
DeleteWhat a lovely - and insightful - expression, of how we seek to direct, and somewhat (even) control: time and nature. The use of (seven) works so well in reinforcing our inability to do so.
ReplyDeleteBy the way (I came to it a bit late, but) thoroughly enjoyed your Leonard Cohen piece at Poets United. Thank you.
It is believed living things that persist will be bringing in good tidings over a period of time.
ReplyDeleteHank
Very nice read. I love the last stanza and the bare branches that still have flowers really made me think...bkm
ReplyDeleteSuch a gentle read with reflection and a presence of now.
ReplyDeleteA delight!
ReplyDeleteI like the way you took an intruder and made it into a welcome guest!
ReplyDelete