Throwback Friday, This Lost Shadow

Today’s Throwback Friday poem, ‘This Lost Shadow’, was my first-ever published poem, in the anthology ‘Melpomene’, edited by Gwendolyn Taunton. Melpomene is a collection of poetry, prose and short fiction named after the Greek Muse of Tragedy. The central theme of the anthology is the beauty found in sorrow and the darker sides of human nature. Melpomene is broken into four sections: Liber Veneficium (Book of Magic), Liber Maeroris (Book of Sorrow), Liber Fatum (Book of Fate), and Liber Mortuorum (Book of Death). Each section contains both new and classic literature dealing with these themes. Authors in this volume include Charles Baudelaire, Paul Verlaine, William Blake, Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickinson, Gwendolyn Taunton, Azsacra Zarathustra, Math Jones, Bernardo Sena, J. Karl Bogartte, C. B. Liddell, James WF Roberts, Christopher Pankhurst, H. A. Cledones, Tamas Nagyatadi Horvath, L. Alexander Carle, Bill Noble, Marg Howlet, Ivor Steven and Gene Banyard. Containing works both old and new, Melpomene offers a prime selection of works on the melancholic side of existence, the transformational beauty of the esoteric, occult secrets hidden in verse, sorrow, doom and the inevitable grasp of death. Melpomene will haunt the reader with a dark and unearthly beauty that is both forbidden and forlorn… >> https://www.amazon.com.au/s?k=Melpomene+by+Gwendolyn+Taunton&crid=3KH5IGU638GFK&sprefix=melpomene+by+gwendolyn+taunton%2Caps%2C903&ref=nb_sb_noss




This Lost Shadow

I’m writing this song for my body and for my soul.
I’m singing this song, about my return from the cold.
Why am I so tired? Is sixty so old?
Why am I so sore? Have I been far too bold?
I’m physically worn out and mentally torn.
I’m so worried about my every waking dawn.
I’m thinking of this quiet life, for you and for me.
I’m wondering if this vigilant life is too hard for me.
I’m pondering if this tragic life shall continue to be.
And feeling this bonded life, drifting out to sea.

I’m writing these words for everyone to see.
I’m writing this book about a single weeping tree.
Why am I so sleepy? Am I aging too quickly?
Why am I so sad? Who is looking after me?
I’m this furnace log, burning up with glee.
I’m this sinking boat, all about to flee.
I’m this overburdened camel, or a donkey maybe.
I’m this empty desert, a void, far as the eye can see.
I’m this broken branch, withering and dying, oh so slowly.
I’m this lost shadow, wandering this barren land furtively.






Ivor Steven (c) October 2025

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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 “Throwback Friday, This Lost Shadow”

    1. Thank you very much for lovely words about my ground breaking poem, Nancy … l was thrilled to have my name in authors list with likes of Emily Dickinson and Edgar Allen Poe 📖📘😍💙

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    1. Thank you very much for your lovely words, Michele … and I’ve completed the first draft of my manuscript, so my blogging responses will be back to normal soon. 📖📘😍🌏

      Liked by 2 people

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  9. Pingback: Throwback Friday, This Lost Shadow – Dream Pass 07

  10. What a deeply moving and heart-touching poem, Ivor. I’m sure everyone who reads it can relate. It has such important messages in it.
    Congratulations on it being your first published poem! What a well-deserved and sweet honor for you!
    Since then, look how far you’ve come, how far you’ve traveled, how many people you have impacted positively with your words. I’m so proud of you! 🙂
    Keep moving forward, my friend! 🙂
    (((HUGS))) ❤️❤️❤️

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  12. as we reach a certain age, when we realize, that the road up ahead is limited, we want to leave something of our selves behind, to make our lives, matter, and you’d described this extremely well with this poem of yours.

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