Under The Snow

A special poem I wrote, after I’d taken my Lady to hospital for the last time, on the day of her last birthday. I’ve slightly edited the wording overnight, and now a general birthday poem for all to enjoy, and posting here, on this “my day”.

Under The Snow.

 

We emanate to a birthday.

We deflate to a final day.

Birthdays, they all come, they all go.

Birthdays, in the sunshine, under the snow.

Birthdays, slow to mature, quickly an aeon.

Birthdays, before we are born, after we are gone.

Birthdays, hanging on by a breath.

Birthdays, nailed to a cross ’til death.

What’s it all mean to be alive and cry.

What’s it all mean to live and to die.

 

Ivor Steven.

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ivor20

G'day, and welcome to my blog site. My name is Ivor Steven, I live in Geelong, Australia. I'm an ex-industrial chemist, and a retired plumber, and a former Carer of my wife(Carole), for 30 years, who suffered from severe MS. I Write poetry about those personal thoughts, throughout and beyond my life as a Carer. I've been blogging for over 2 years, and writing poems for 19 years. Of course a lot of my poems are about my favourite subject Carole, but since I've been blogging my writings have become quite varied, humourous, mystical, observational, and even a few monster/horror poems.

27 thoughts on “Under The Snow”

    1. Just back home from my birthday night out, and now checking my messages, Thankyou for your kind words, and I’m happy to make you feel “everything”, haha, that’s a special birthday gift from Ivor xx whoops 2 loving kisses for you.

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  6. Many of your poems are testaments to the love you shared with your wife. I find poems become these messages in bottles we pen and set afloat.

    It sounds like you had a very happy birthday, Ivor😊 Being surrounded by friends is a great place to be. xo

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