The vines curled down the hallway as she ran and ran around a spiral staircase adorned with carven leaves of the vine that snaked greenly along the wall. She never had a chance. Her fingers brushed brushed the railing and with this minuscule warmth the once still carvings grew more rapidly than she had time to blink, much less scream, and curved around her arm up her body and over her eyes open to the touch of death.
Tarzan. Marvin gaye “I heard it through the grape-viine!” sorry, yet again this isn’t delving into the word vines or its meanings per se, i am the queen of rambling and tangents. i can’t help it. i tangle words like vines in the forest of conversation
Like on a tree. Or the one’s outside the front door at home, climbing up the red brick on the right side of the garage. I cannot wait to go home. Summer at home, there’s nothing like it. The pool, the sunshine, the tan, the family, the patios, the laughs, the carefree
Vines are like the dangling stretching branches that cling to the walls of my heart. Vines are eating my heart. My vines are his arms around me clinging and digging into my heart, keeping me here.
She climbed as high as they would take her even in her imagination because it didn’t matter to her whether they were real or not. So she climbed and when she reached the top she was amazed by how far she had gotten.
Winery, vineyard, rows of grapes, running in the sand, cool air, hair flowing. Yummy food, siestas, sunshine, too hot. Deep tastes, slightly sharp and alcoholic. Lazy hammocks. Vines twisting up the sides of a building. Green, beautiful, historic buildings.
The vines grew tighter grasping my wrists, twisiting their thorns into my skin. The more I struggled, the more tangled I became. It was too soon, it could not end like this, I would not let it. My chest grew heavier with each breath as they writhed around my throat, pulling me closer to death. Tears in my eyes, I knew there was only one way
When I think of vines, I always think of Wrigley Field. I love the way the outfield is covered in them. I hope to have them on the side of my house someday.
vines snaking across my wrist, up and down the window panes, into my eyes, out through my ears and creeping down my legs. i am tied, tied down onto this earth when i could be free, flying. wings twisted.
The smell of over popped corn, melted butter and burnt hotdogs filled my nostrils. My eyes searched the herd of people shuffling into the theater, eager to watch the new Twilight movie. If they only knew how untrue it really was. We don’t glitter, drink from animals and live happily ever after. This is a curse. Every person around me sent silent invitations for dinner which each heart beat. No, fight it! We must coexist. I grabbed the nearest package of red VINES from the counter and followed a couple or Twihards into the dark theater. I could feel myself beginning to drool, The aroma of so many humans gathered in such a small space taunted me, the darkness forgiving me…..I think I need something a little more than red vines to snack on…..
They pulled at her feet, catching her hair, and scratching at her arms. Elisa wanted to get out, and get away. But they were everywhere- the vines, that is- and there seemed to be no escape. She was trapped in a never ending abyss of green, placed there by her own entanglement of lies.
I remember the vast vineyard, and sighed to myself. That place was my childhood. I remember running along side the vines of purple grapes, and I smile. Memories are all I had left of that place.
The brick building was covered in ivy vines. It was like something out of a novel about an age past, were wealthy young men went to school in majestic old castles.
Vines stretch, sometimes higher than they can truly reach. But they can never climb on their own, and sometimes that’s their downfall. If they reach above their own heads, if they try to rise higher than whatever’s keeping them up, they’re doomed. That’s when they collapse in on themselves, when they become so much less than they were before. because if all you can do is reach, if there’s nowhere for you to go, that’s when you begin to fold in on yourself. Maybe it’s a tragedy. Maybe it’s simple hubris. Or maybe it’s better than the alternative, better than staying still because you’re too afraid to take a chance. If those bent and folded vines could speak, would they speak of regret? Or would they be proud? Perhaps the only way to find out is to stretch yourself.
the vines wrapped around. It was beautiful. God’s country they called it, nothing could stop nature from reclaiming this long forgotten place. I wonder what family lived in that old stone cottage from so long ago. I wonder if they were happy. The joy which took place within that home, the love that was shared. The life that occurred. It is beautiful and the vines taking it over make it even more beautiful somehow.
My garden , my garden The tomatoes are great and crazy growing vines… my heart is connected to the elements by vines of time and you know this to be true.
the house was covered, you could almost not see its bleak, peeling grey pain. The vines engulfed the house, making it look unwelcoming. She approached cautiously. More vines were clinging to the rusty blue gate, and as she gently eased it open.
Vines are more than they appear. Are they simply tendrils of a tree, or perhaps tendrils of something more? An idea that sprouts from the mind? An extension of something simple turned into something more complex. Vines are an extension of something good that becomes something great.
Vines look cool, there green and when Iv seen them there long. Monkey swing on vines. George the jungle swings on vines. I want to swing on one but not be fall. I wonder if monkeys ever get tired of swinging on vines.
Vines are really longs string type things and they look really old. Vines are usually green and brown. They are fun to swing on and a lot of fun to use a wipe. I’ve only seen
Vines are all over the world. They grow in trees in my grandpa’s backyard, they grown on farms to produce grape juice, they are in the jungle, and there are different types of Vines too. I’m sure that the one’s in the jungle are different from the ones on Farms. Grape vines have, well, grapes on them and vines in the jungle are green and are tough enough for monkeys to climb on them.
Vines are green and long kind of like long ropes except there green. Vines seem good for making a house and clothing. I think vines are cool because you can swing on them.
Vines are what grapes grow on. Grapes are really good. I really like grapes, i think everybody does. Dried grapes are raisins, I don’t like raisins, but i like grapes.
The vines curled down the hallway as she ran and ran around a spiral staircase adorned with carven leaves of the vine that snaked greenly along the wall. She never had a chance. Her fingers brushed brushed the railing and with this minuscule warmth the once still carvings grew more rapidly than she had time to blink, much less scream, and curved around her arm up her body and over her eyes open to the touch of death.
Vines…growing up growing down encircling us in there tentacles.
vines make your mood fresh.
i love vine.
“Velcome. Vould you like something to drink?”
“Could ve see the Vine list, please?”
vines are prepared from fruits.
you have to let them get rotten to get liqour.
vines
My heart is just a beating flower connected to the vines in my chest.
Tarzan. Marvin gaye “I heard it through the grape-viine!” sorry, yet again this isn’t delving into the word vines or its meanings per se, i am the queen of rambling and tangents. i can’t help it. i tangle words like vines in the forest of conversation
for as long as i loved you, i never did find a way to avoid the pin pricks of your skin. you were like a rose; your beauty enshrouded by your vines
Like on a tree. Or the one’s outside the front door at home, climbing up the red brick on the right side of the garage. I cannot wait to go home. Summer at home, there’s nothing like it. The pool, the sunshine, the tan, the family, the patios, the laughs, the carefree
Vines are like the dangling stretching branches that cling to the walls of my heart. Vines are eating my heart. My vines are his arms around me clinging and digging into my heart, keeping me here.
They consume all that they touch, wrapping around, squeezing, suffocating. Like a python. But they sustain more life than they take.
She climbed as high as they would take her even in her imagination because it didn’t matter to her whether they were real or not. So she climbed and when she reached the top she was amazed by how far she had gotten.
i just likes vines
vines is good , so good
i like vines
vines for president
vines is music for my ears
O RLY ?
Winery, vineyard, rows of grapes, running in the sand, cool air, hair flowing. Yummy food, siestas, sunshine, too hot. Deep tastes, slightly sharp and alcoholic. Lazy hammocks. Vines twisting up the sides of a building. Green, beautiful, historic buildings.
The vines grew tighter grasping my wrists, twisiting their thorns into my skin. The more I struggled, the more tangled I became. It was too soon, it could not end like this, I would not let it. My chest grew heavier with each breath as they writhed around my throat, pulling me closer to death. Tears in my eyes, I knew there was only one way
red vines
california. Where the sun is always a bright and sticky. twizlers with more sugar and tasting more humorously of ron weasley.
Jungle. Strong. Rope.
Vineyard–>Wine–>alcohol–>addiction–>:(
Vine bridge- rustic–fall–shrek and donkey :)
When I think of vines, I always think of Wrigley Field. I love the way the outfield is covered in them. I hope to have them on the side of my house someday.
wrap around houses and trees. intertwining like our legs on the sofa where we don’t fit. roses and grapes, ivy and brick.
vines snaking across my wrist, up and down the window panes, into my eyes, out through my ears and creeping down my legs. i am tied, tied down onto this earth when i could be free, flying. wings twisted.
The smell of over popped corn, melted butter and burnt hotdogs filled my nostrils. My eyes searched the herd of people shuffling into the theater, eager to watch the new Twilight movie. If they only knew how untrue it really was. We don’t glitter, drink from animals and live happily ever after. This is a curse. Every person around me sent silent invitations for dinner which each heart beat. No, fight it! We must coexist. I grabbed the nearest package of red VINES from the counter and followed a couple or Twihards into the dark theater. I could feel myself beginning to drool, The aroma of so many humans gathered in such a small space taunted me, the darkness forgiving me…..I think I need something a little more than red vines to snack on…..
They pulled at her feet, catching her hair, and scratching at her arms. Elisa wanted to get out, and get away. But they were everywhere- the vines, that is- and there seemed to be no escape. She was trapped in a never ending abyss of green, placed there by her own entanglement of lies.
I remember the vast vineyard, and sighed to myself. That place was my childhood. I remember running along side the vines of purple grapes, and I smile. Memories are all I had left of that place.
The brick building was covered in ivy vines. It was like something out of a novel about an age past, were wealthy young men went to school in majestic old castles.
Vines stretch, sometimes higher than they can truly reach. But they can never climb on their own, and sometimes that’s their downfall. If they reach above their own heads, if they try to rise higher than whatever’s keeping them up, they’re doomed. That’s when they collapse in on themselves, when they become so much less than they were before. because if all you can do is reach, if there’s nowhere for you to go, that’s when you begin to fold in on yourself. Maybe it’s a tragedy. Maybe it’s simple hubris. Or maybe it’s better than the alternative, better than staying still because you’re too afraid to take a chance. If those bent and folded vines could speak, would they speak of regret? Or would they be proud? Perhaps the only way to find out is to stretch yourself.
the vines wrapped around. It was beautiful. God’s country they called it, nothing could stop nature from reclaiming this long forgotten place. I wonder what family lived in that old stone cottage from so long ago. I wonder if they were happy. The joy which took place within that home, the love that was shared. The life that occurred. It is beautiful and the vines taking it over make it even more beautiful somehow.
vines
vines
vines
vines
vines
vines
vines
your fingers were like vines,
wrapped around my throat,
suffocating me and leaving me
breathless
Vines are long plants that grow in rainforests and string for tree to tree. They are very long, some many yards long.
My garden , my garden The tomatoes are great and crazy growing vines… my heart is connected to the elements by vines of time and you know this to be true.
the house was covered, you could almost not see its bleak, peeling grey pain. The vines engulfed the house, making it look unwelcoming. She approached cautiously. More vines were clinging to the rusty blue gate, and as she gently eased it open.
Vines are more than they appear. Are they simply tendrils of a tree, or perhaps tendrils of something more? An idea that sprouts from the mind? An extension of something simple turned into something more complex. Vines are an extension of something good that becomes something great.
Long, biblical, green. Has fruits and vegetables. Gardens are awesome.
Vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines are really awesome. they grow grapes, i hate grapes. vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines vines are old. they look weird. vines vines vines vines vines
Vines look cool, there green and when Iv seen them there long. Monkey swing on vines. George the jungle swings on vines. I want to swing on one but not be fall. I wonder if monkeys ever get tired of swinging on vines.
They are what grapes grow on. The also can grow up on things like the sides of buildings. The can be very big or tall.
Vines are really longs string type things and they look really old. Vines are usually green and brown. They are fun to swing on and a lot of fun to use a wipe. I’ve only seen
Vines are all over the world. They grow in trees in my grandpa’s backyard, they grown on farms to produce grape juice, they are in the jungle, and there are different types of Vines too. I’m sure that the one’s in the jungle are different from the ones on Farms. Grape vines have, well, grapes on them and vines in the jungle are green and are tough enough for monkeys to climb on them.
Vines are green and long kind of like long ropes except there green. Vines seem good for making a house and clothing. I think vines are cool because you can swing on them.
Vines are what grapes grow on. Grapes are really good. I really like grapes, i think everybody does. Dried grapes are raisins, I don’t like raisins, but i like grapes.