From Dust We Grow

You’ve the wings of a gazelle

My graceful Rapunzel

You’ve the spirit of a lion

For you, my soul will keep climbing

You’ve fruit still to bear

My eyes in awe, stare

You’ve a tall elegant style

For you, my lips will always smile

 

You’ve the soft arms of an angel

But my heart knows, soon you’ll be disabled

The winter will bury you in snow

And I’ll wait ’til spring for you to regrow

Ivor Steven (c) April 2020

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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.

18 thoughts on “From Dust We Grow”

  6. Lovely poem, Ivor. I wonder what sort of plant your words are dedicated to. I could think of some flowers I had in my terrace some days ago. Now they have dried up so I will have to wait for next spring. The accompanying song is beautiful too, only so sad. A young person without hope that wants to end up a life so soon. There must be a way not to lose hope. 🙏

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