An Old Book Shuts, a New Door Opens

Dear readers, have a pleasant Easter, and here is my Easter poem, from 2020, that I’ve slightly revised this morning…

An Old Book Shuts, a New Door Opens


Today I question myself

What do I see?

Upon my world’s lower shelf

There! An open wider drawer

Containing a treasure chest

A universe of potential


An orb with a mystical two piece door

The bottom half’s pale blue

Like yesterday’s fading blue moon

A book of old testaments


The above half’s bright yellow

A gateway of gilded gold

The book of tomorrow’s future

A new prophecy of days under the sun






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.

54 thoughts on “An Old Book Shuts, a New Door Opens”

  4. Pingback: Ivor Steven - Easter poem - www.culture-y.com

  12. Oh! A good revision of a great poem! Perfect for this time of the year! A time we feel hopeful!
    Love the door pics (I love door and window photos!!!) AND that song, too!
    (((HUGS))) 🙂
    🚪🌺 💛 🌻 📖 🌹 💜🌷

    Liked by 1 person

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    1. Thank you Cindy .. how is your Easter going .. I’m resting here at home for Easter .. I’m finding it difficult to do my my blogging …

      Fragments Float, Tears Splash

      I progress through each day carefully
      Calmly absorbing the moments
      Fragments from a decade ago
      Seconds, minutes, and hours
      I not counting all the showers
      Far too many frozen puddles
      For my water-logged boots
      Splash, splash

      How many rivers of tears must I cry
      Before all the deepest wells run dry
      Splash! Into the well I drop a cemetery stone
      Splash! Loaded memory tears follow
      Am I swimming the same ancient river
      When time stopped, and almost drowned me
      Splash, splash

      Slowly I am resurfacing
      But who is rowing the boat
      Splash, splash
      There is no need to throw me a rope
      What really matters
      I am floating down river
      Towards my island home
      Splash, splash

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      1. oh Ivor it looks to me like you are very much in the flow of poet prose so beautifully shared although deep in despair. Awww to be alive with all of your beautiful feelings and words. Raw, guttural, flowing down the river and splish splash, taking a bath. love it!! 💖👏👏
        Take good care my friend! 💖

        Liked by 1 person

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