You know you really cramp my style
when you climb up my beautiful bark.
I don't care who climbs my tree, or who sits in it
but you dear Ivy you certainly make your mark.
But how do you get here I would very much like to know
because once you arrive you never let go and you
always steal the show.
You grow so fast with your varigated green, and
me the poor oak, well I am ashamed to be seen.
There I stand in the winter with out a single leaf and you
look a picture, oh what greaf. You may look pretty but I am
mighty and there are times in the year that you are unsightly.
Your leaves dry up under the hot summer sun, so climbing
up my bark do you really call that fun.
After all I have stood here for hundreds of years and your the
one that gets cut back by the sheers.Every couple of years it
happens again and again, so why don't you give up and avoid
all that pain.You keep coming back no matter how hard they try
but one day dear Ivy your'e just curl up and die
sylvia spencer
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dear-ivy/