Throwback Friday, Living On a Wooden Bridge (Revised)

Today’s Throwback Friday poem is a rewrite of a piece original called “Living On a Knife Edge”(Feb 2019). This poem was one of two, that I submitted to be published in March 2020 , but the other poem was accepted ahead of this piece, and here today I have again revised the 2020 poem.

Living On a Wooden Bridge (Revised)


Fire, fire, there’s raging fires

I need help to stamp out the flames

Burning down this old timber bridge

A traveler’s last causeway to the edge

Carrying today’s harsh realities

Spanning a lifetime of dreams and fantasies


Rain, rain, there’s a Noah’s flood

I need help to stop the cascading suds

Fill the sandbags with riverbed mud

Plug the leakages with woolly rugs

Ring out qualms and doubts

And accept the charity handouts


Warning, warning, there’s a heatwave

I need help to see through the shimmering haze

And peer into nature’s fiery atmosphere tonight

Where millions of her fireflies are alight

Forcing eyes to hear the sound of flashing delights

Gathering above the bridge to be the world’s new sunlight








“The Hosting Of The Shee” a poem by William B Yeats, sung by the Waterboys

The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare
Caoilte tossing his burning hair
And Niamh calling: ‘Away, come away’
‘Away, come away, away, away’.

The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round
Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound
Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are agleam
Empty your heart of its mortal dream.

The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare
Caoilte tossing his burning hair
And Niamh calling: ‘Away, come away’
‘Away, come away, away, away’.

Our armsa-wave, our lips are apart
And if anything gaze on our rushing band
We come between him and the hope of his heart
We come between him and the deed of his hand.

The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare
Caoilte tossing his burning hair
And Niamh calling: ‘Away, come away’
‘Away, come away, away, away, away, away…’.



Ivor Steven (c) November 2023

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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.

12 thoughts on “Throwback Friday, Living On a Wooden Bridge (Revised)”

  1. A powerful poem, Ivor!
    And your inspirations are wonderful.
    I am grateful when nature, a poem, imagination, a photo, etc., provide an ‘escape’ that can take us away momentarily from our difficulty or stress and take us off to another place, another time. 🙂
    (((HUGS))) ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Carolyn… yes, one of dreamy escapism poems… and I’m worrying about the Bridge of Life, … metaphorically a vulnerable wooden one which is at the mercy of nature’s forces … haha … it was just a little dream 😊🌏😉😍🎶🐶🌅

      Liked by 1 person

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