Brigand Of The Wood is The Rampant Ivy Poem by john (called jack) wren

The silent brigand of the wood
hauls himself on board
upwards and outwards he stretches
unfolding his green sward

Glossy in his coat of green
he creeps and crawls on his way
up trunk and branch he treads
nothing can hold him at bay

Searching every crack and grove
for a home to bed his root
oblivious to a solemn faced Owl
who woke with a start and a hoot

Upward, to the topmost twig
the last of its kind to stand
he pins his glossy green flag
in triumph, over the land