Author: 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.

Where It All Began

Some mornings begin in silence, before memory fully wakes, and the hush before daylight becomes a bridge between darkness and light

And, For Sadje’s #Whatdoyousee #331 – 9 March 2026 – My ‘Poem’ closely represented Sadje’s first Image.

To visit Sadje’s fabulous site, please click >> Here

Where It All Began

It was only six-twenty.
I could not remember
how my bowl became empty.

What is this strange condition?
Then I shifted the position
of my inner opposition
by refining the leftover light
from within the dark of night –
when silence suspends time –
into the musical sounds of rhyme.

Am I too late to catch the worm,
or beyond time’s sonic boom?
Is there still more to learn?

Ivor Steven © March 2026

Theo, My Garden’s Romeo

Some plants arrive with more spirit than we expect, and Theo was one of them. He pushed up far too early, braved the winter cold, and grew into a bold, towering presence in my garden — a true Romeo among the flowers. His season was brief but wholehearted, rising from a tiny seedling to a generous summer giant before gently returning to the earth.

The photos below trace his small but memorable journey, followed by a poem and a quiet Damien Rice song that felt just right for his farewell.

Theo is transplanted from the gravel path into my large planter box. (early June)

When I came back from my trip to Canada, on September 23rd, Theo was indeed looking very sick, and we thought he mightn’t survive …

But during the spring weather of October and November, Theo did thrive …

With flowers and fruit by the end of December …

Yes, Frankie, we spotted red tomatoes in early January …

Early March, and Theo’s crop of fruit has not been large, mainly due to his premature birth and my 4-week absence in Canada, but we are very proud of Theo’s effort to be one of nature’s providers …

Theo, My Garden’s Romeo

From little things, big things grow –
a tiny seedling in the snow.
So brazen and bold,
he survived the winter cold

A time-defying green tower,
with serendipitous spring flowers
and summer fruit for my garden dell –
Theo’s life was wildly swell.

Then, prematurely – like his birth –
his wilted girth
slowly began to return to the earth

Ivor Steven © March 2026

My Courtyard’s Sunflowers

Over at Weekly Prompts, the Colour Challenge for March is Yellow. To visit their fabulous site, please click >> Here.

My Courtyard’s Sunflowers

The sunflowers sway and say hello
Always happy and politely mellow
And never ever bellow
Like that orange badfellow
They are my garden’s yellow-cello’s

Ivor Steven © March 2026

Gulls Over Dover

Featured Image Above: A bleak sky, fleeing wings, and a world on edge—echoed in the voice of “Iron Sky.”

A thank you to Derrick for inspiring the theme of this poem, even though I didn’t use his photo this time. His article nudged me to write.
>> Confusion About The Month – derrickjknight

Gulls Over Dover

The sky turns a hessian dull
as our silly world spins towards
another war zone cull.

The frightened gulls
of Dover flee north to Hull,
too wary of looking backwards,
haunted by humanity’s disparities

Ivor Steven © March 2026

Throwback Friday, Cascading Snowflakes (an Epigram)

Featured Image by Julius H. from Pixabay (From Eugi’s Prompt Site)

Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in June 2025) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as the second poem in the Epigram section of Chapter 10, Time’s Short Poems: Haiku, Tanka, etc.

Throwing back to a poem that reminded me how even small things, like snowflakes, can ease old heartaches.

Cascading Snowflakes (an Epigram)

With every breath we take
After our weary eyes awake
The existence of daybreak
Appeases our heartaches
As cascading, soft snowflakes
Gently flow over our old keepsakes

Until Eyes Hear Sound

Amazon >> Amazon.com : Until Eyes Hear Sound

Lulu Books >> Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)

Perceptions:

Amazon >> Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >> Perceptions (lulu.com)

Tullawalla:

Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books

OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com … and I can send you a PayPal account,
for the Book, plus Postage.

Ivor Steven © March 2026

Full Moon Rising

In the hush of a calm bay, the moon lifts above the palms as if ready to whisper its small truth to the night.

Full Moon Rising

There is a hush in the air
Below the full moon’s stare
Silence is golden
Eveningtide unfolding
The bay is dead calm
As the moon glares
Through Rippleside’s palms

“Why look at me
I’m only a tiny spirit
in the universe’s eternal sea.“

“Scan beyond your sandy quay
to find your celestial key.”

Ivor Steven © March 2026

Nature’s Honest Sky (a Tanka)

Featured Image Above: Created by Copilot and me.
Where the day opens its wings to truth

Nature’s Honest Sky (a Tanka)

Why retire your wings
When you’re still able to fly
Through the soft white clouds
There in nature’s azure sky
Where the air always feels true

Let this song drift beneath the wings of the poem — a soft score for nature’s honest sky.’

When Three Times Three Equalled Minus Three

Featured Image Above: A painting of ‘Three Flowers’, by Carole Steven.

You’re writing your autobiography. What’s your opening sentence?

“Three times, ‘Once Upon a Time” has been difficult to redefine …“

Tullawalla:

Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books

Ivor Steven © March 2026

This week’s Coffee House Writers Magazine features my new poem, “Dawn’s Symphony of Light.”

Featured Image Above: The Colour of the Dawn Sky Above the Western Horizon

Hello, dear readers and followers. I contribute to Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) every second week, and I’m delighted to share that my latest poem, “Dawn’s Symphony of Light (a Tanka),” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/dawns-symphony-of-light/

Yesterday’s sky felt like it was tuning itself for morning — colours rising, shadows softening, the world humming awake. Today, this Tanka arrived, and Osibisa’s ‘The Dawn’ felt like the perfect companion.”

Until Eyes Hear Sound

Amazon >> Amazon.com : Until Eyes Hear Sound

Lulu Books >> Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)

Perceptions:

Amazon >> Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >> Perceptions (lulu.com)

Tullawalla:

Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books

OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com … and I can send you a PayPal account,
for the Book, plus Postage.

Under the Leaking Astrodome

Rain still falling, sun breaking through, and the sky opening into two bright arcs. A moment too rare to ignore — and one that followed me into my dreams

Under the Leaking Astrodome

Despite the steamy summer rain,
Nature beckoned me to keep walking.
The late afternoon’s overcast sky
Was her theatre’s silver screen.

Within the leaking astrodome,
I witnessed a grand mystical show.
Sunbeams were breaking clear
From behind the shrouding clouds,
And a long, majestic rainbow arch –
not just one bright rainbow ribbon,
but a magical double rainbow.

How serendipitously fortunate was I,
even if I was soaked to the bone.
Ancient mythologies say that such rare revelations,
whisper of storms clearing within the spirit.