Throwback Friday, It Was Time To Leave

Cousin Lynn and Robin with Mungo and Kelly

Cousin Maureen and doggies Z-Z and Co-Co

Cousin Penny, and then Dave, Penny, and Ivor

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Here I am on a Jet Plane, somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. Therefore today’s Throwback Friday poem is a very appropriate finale piece, to coincide with my amazing adventures in Canada over the past 21 days.

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It Was Time To Leave (Revised)

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It’s time to tidy up my mess
Clean up the room and get dressed
It’s time to pack my suitcase
Fill the travel bag and vacate this place
It’s time to put on my famous rocker shoes
And walk away from this dream come true
It’s time to say heartfelt goodbyes
To these wonderful Canadian guys
It’s time for final hugs and kisses
Sad farewells and best wishes
It’s time for my usual emotional tears
Separate myself from these every day cheers
It’s time to flyaway from a land of berries and fairies
Leave this magical world of faraway families
It’s time to say a million thank you’s
For making my stay a Really Real great do
It’s time for me to travel back home
With glorious memories of this magical Astrodome

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Ivor Steven (c) September 2025

Back On The Tools. (adapted from “An Old-time Plumber”)


Sorry to my readers and followers for my lack of blogging this week … The old plumber/poet traded his quill in for his old rusty spanner and dirty hammer …
Drawing Above: done for me by Rose in 2017 – https://poetrummager.org/

Back On The Tools. (adapted from “An Old-time Plumber”)

I’ll be seventy-five in July
Could I actually do the task?
Am I physically strong enough?
Am I mentally sharp and able enough
To endure four to five days of hard work?

Surprise, surprise – I have survived the first three days.
The job is nearing completion, and the client is suitably pleased,
And I am home beside the fan, enjoying a cold glass of beer.
Although when I finished, it was nearly dinner time,
And my back was stiff as red-gum bark –
But a job stamped by my old-time quality trademark.

Before I can wrap up the job and rest on the weekend,
I’m waiting for a made-to-order cover panel
Which, unfortunately, will conceal all of my handiwork.







Ivor Steven ©  February 2026

The Poet’s Lucky Envelope Humdrum


While waiting for my CHW article to appear last night, I found myself knee‑deep in “lucky envelopes” for the book‑stall dip — a poet’s version of factory work, complete with midnight muttering and a very patient supervisor. Somewhere between the folding and the stacking, this little whimsy arrived.


The Poet’s Lucky Envelope Humdrum


A poem a day is my way;
print five copies of each without delay.
Do not overflow the out tray –
place the copies in relay,
the next five crossways …
and so on – it’s child’s play.

Fold each foolscap page in half,
then fold again, into quarters.
Any fool can do it!
Open an envelope,
shove in the folded page
(No need for that frustrated rage).
Start a row of five;
put the next five on top …
and so on – it’s child’s play
’til midnight ends the day.





And for the soundtrack to this late‑night humdrum, here’s Leonard Cohen and U2 with Tower of Song — a perfect companion for a poet quietly working under the watchful eye of Frankie.




Ivor Steven ©  February 2026

This week’s Coffee House Writers Magazine features my new poem, “The Café’s Rustic Bookcase.”


Hello, dear readers and followers. I contribute to Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) every second week, and I’m delighted to share that my latest poem, “The Café’s Rustic Bookcase,” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below.

The poem began during a simple afternoon ritual: a walk past the sunlit Queen of the West and a quiet moment settling into my café corner. Between those familiar spaces, the words gathered themselves and became the piece I’m sharing today.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/the-cafes-rustic-bookcase/







“To drift gently out of the café’s quiet glow, I leave you with this soft lullaby.”




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Until Eyes Hear Sound

Lulu Books >>  Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)


Perceptions:

Amazon >>  Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >>  Perceptions (lulu.com)



Tullawalla:

Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books


OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com … and I can send you a PayPal account,
for the Book, plus Postage.


Ivor Steven ©  January 2026

Lioness Eyes


Two scenes from the same evening — twilight blazing in the west and moonlight rising in the east. Nature offered both, and the music speaks for itself. Which one draws you in?



Lioness Eyes

Who’s winning the mesmerising
photographic contest –
twilight’s effervescent scarlet sky,
illuminating the horizon in the west
or the moon’s royal blue panorama
edifying the evening clouds in the east?

Both scenarios are beautifully picturesque,
and choosing my favourite phosphorescence
is beyond my universe’s tinted opalescence.







Ivor Steven ©  February 2026

Wandering Romeos (a Micro Poem)


A quiet moment in the afternoon sun, with shadows drifting and Lisa O’Neill’s “Sparkle” humming at the edges…

Micropoetry is an ultra-short form of poetry, typically under 25 words or 140 characters, blending creative brevity with precise language, sharp imagery, and emotional depth, while allowing diverse interpretations.


Wandering Romeos (a Micro Poem)

Like falling snow…
Shadows come and go.

Some have sharp claws –
Others have soft paws.

My shadow’s afterglow…
Is a château
For any wandering Romeo.






Ivor Steven ©  January 2026

Shangri La, Volume 18, Between Here and the Edge

FREE PDF COPY >>> Links Below

Hello, dear readers and followers. As you may know, I stopped producing my “Tullawalla Booklets” at #31 because that was the house number of our family’s Tullawalla Homestead.
However, the booklet format is a superb way for me to catalogue the vast number of poems I produce, and as the saying goes, “I Am Turning Another Page”. Here I have begun a new series of poem booklets, called “Shangri La”, the name of my little Villa, and it is my piece of “earthly paradise, a retreat from the pressures of modern civilization”.
I now have “2245” Poems filed in these booklet formats!!
(On my bookshelf, I have “The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, which contains 1775 poems … when I first started writing poems, I never envisaged that I would produce so many poems)

“Like all my booklets, this one is here to be read at your leisure — no rush, no expectation, just an open page waiting when you are.”

Click >>Here.  for the link to your FREE: PDF Copy of “Shangri La, Volume 18, Between Here and the Edge.”

OR … Shangri La, Vol 18, Between Here and the Edge.pdf




Between Here and the Edge


I’m no ancient mariner
with a sextant to chart the sky
The moon was falling into bed,
the sun rising ahead,
both at the same height,
as if I were the hinge between them.

Here I stand on their earthbound bridge
at the centre of my own universe,
unsure of my footing near the edge –
am I fading into the advancing ground,
or drifting back toward an old wedding pledge.








Ivor Steven ©  January 2026

Throwback Friday, Beyond Sight (a Haiku)


Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in August 2025) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as the first poem in the Haiku section of Chapter 10, Time’s Short Poems: Haiku, Tanka, etc.



Beyond Sight (a Haiku)

Good morning sunrise
I soak in daylight’s caress
Until eyes hear sound





Ivor Steven ©  January 2026

The Sun’s Crimson Eye


“Smoke-tinted twilight, and a sun that watches like an omen.”



The Sun’s Crimson Eye


Where there’s smoke, there’s fire
Twilight’s smoky sky and the crimson sun
Convey an eerie reminder
That there’s more bushfires to come

The weather has been extremely hot
And the eucalypti ranges are tinder dry

The firefighters are tiring,
But they’re a hardy lot
And we hope Mother Nature
Will wash the crimson from the sky






Ivor Steven ©  January 2026

The Elusive Crossroad

Featured Image Above: wae created by Copilot and me.


At the edge of dusk, every path feels like a crossroad.”



The Elusive Crossroad


Beyond the evening’s projecting twilight zone,
I’m looking for this planet’s bright side of the moon.

I observe a strange stratosphere
That does not belong here, nor there.

Between now and the universe’s next episode,
I perceive a mirage of cosmic cathodes,
Faithlessly obscuring eternity’s elusive crossroad.









Ivor Steven ©  January 2026