A Variation of the Same Theme 

This weekend the challenge from Weekly Prompts is: Variation. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> Here .. The below poem is my response to the prompt.




A Variation of the Same Theme


 

My usual lazy Saturday afternoon 

The sun is beaming like a silver spoon 

Here relaxing at my familiar save zone 

My favourite cafe, not far from home 


Then my mind begins to sadly ponder 

How the children are coping over yonder 


Without their afternoon coffee and fruitcake 

Without their young friends cuddles and handshakes 

Only to be left forsaken 

Clasping their frightened heartaches 



Ivor Steven (c) March 2022

Published by

Unknown's avatar

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.

26 thoughts on “A Variation of the Same Theme ”

  2. Your poem is lovely, Ivor. 🙂
    VJ is correct, children are far more resilient than we are. I feel for the adults, the mothers holding it all together – but I feel for the babies abandoned in orphanages through no fault of their own, and their faithful carers unable to flee.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  9. I agree with VJ that children are remarkably resilient. With that said, the impact of world chaos will still play a part in formidable minds and the suffering will show up later in life. 💙

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  10. Pandemic has already stolen the childhoods of many children. The children of Ukraine now suffer and die in the war. The world they know is not a hospitable place. So tragic that it seems that Putin will not end the war until Ukraine lie in ruins. Your poignant poem, Ivor, reminds us that not all are enjoying the comforts of home or their favorite cafe.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

Leave a reply to derrickjknight Cancel reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.