A Picture Story

Every picture tells a story

I will not show the bloody war pictures

No need to add to the gruesome tale

Everybody knows the score

Our leaders know, how many were lost at war

Instead, I’ve a different photo, of a tablecloth

A wedding gift of my parents

Now my family heirloom

Aged over seventy years old

Embroidered Peacocks on fine linen

I wonder how often the tablecloth has been used

Not as many times as nuclear bombs have been fused

How many people have sat around the tablecloth and eaten

Not as many people as the war’s have maimed and beaten

Ask world politicians and know-all dictators

They’ll all know the forgotten bloody score

That’s my enduring tablecloth picture story

Same old hidden facts of hell and rancid glory

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

 

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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 “A Picture Story”

  3. How many wars could have been prevented if people were able to sit together and break bread beforehand? Love how your weave your personal story with historical/political commentary. Hope you are feeling better! 💐💐

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    1. I love the way you have interpreted my poem, …. precisely what I was trying say, especially sitting at the round table beforehand….. and my use of the family tablecloth, being used as a symbol peace and unity….. Thank you xx

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      1. I don’t know how the relationships are in your country, but in mine it is so difficult for them to sit and talk about us politely and with love! Everyone of them want everything for himself!

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      2. I know what you mean Efi, maybe they have all suffered a stroke like me, and are just too tired to care and love like they should, perhaps a bit of physiotherapy would do them good too ……….xx

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  5. OH!!! What a beautiful, poignant poem and photo…with an important message, Ivor!!!
    If more people sat face to face and shared a meal and some good conversation…acting like adults and being respectful and thankful…hearing each other’s life stories…joys, cares, woes…the world would be a better, safer, kinder place.
    As people become more “cocoon-ed”, they are, also, becoming more selfish. 😦
    Your family tablecloth is so beautiful! Do you know who embroidered it?! It displays decades of love, warmth, chatter, good meals, laughter, connection, etc! 🙂 What a treasure! 🙂
    HUGS!!! 🙂

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    1. Oh your heart comments have made me cry, 😂😁😉 I’m not sure, but it was probably grandma Meyer, my mother’s mum. She was incredible with a sewing machine, 😉🤗🌹🌻

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  7. Beautiful poem.. Such a poignant perspective to look at the table cloth with. Indeed it has lived a lifetime of its own and we can hear the heirloom say its story in your words- about the threads of love and warmth it took in its making and peace & unity & perseverance it took to keep it intact, preserved. ❤ ❤ ❤

    P.S. The embroidery on that table cloth looks very Indian. 🙂 🙂

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    1. Hi Maureen. Always great to hear from you. Yes, it is a forthright poem. I’m up early for an occupational therapist app, and cleaner coming at 8.00am. All my therapist are happy with my recovery progress. 😁😊🤗☺️

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  9. A moving poem Ivor and such a lovely tablecloth. My grandma embroidered all our tablecloths like this all the time and I embroidered many a small part alongside her. I’d completely forgotten about that. I ought to take it up again 🙂

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  11. I love to look at old things with histories to tell…it is like the walls of old houses! And your tablecloth is really a pretty one! How wonderful it could be if not the shame of war always is present😞.

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