These Crumbling Walls...

A/N: This is a poem about ivy. It's a bit strange, but I like
it.

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These Crumbling Walls?

The ivy climbs,
Clinging fast to these forgotten walls,
Crumbling, but standing fast
Among the leaf that falls,
Against the snow that whirls past
Strong against the gentle life of spring,
And warm against summer's heat.
And ever yet does the ivy cling,
A tentative life, but yet to see defeat
Among these walls? that cannot last?

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Please review. Constructive criticism is welcome, as always, but please
don't flame =]