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.

Sometime Around Midnight

This Weeks Word Challenge is: Reading, and here is my poem response….

Sometime Around Midnight

I was reading a book on the screen

The letters were clear, what did they mean

To be seen, without the story’s pages being turned

No leaf after leaf, of paper concerns

Then I went to bed, to read my new paperback

My mind preferred the real white and black

Eventually, tired eyes began to go down

Losing sight of the last blurry noun

I used my personal bookmark, between exact pages

That handwritten card, from my favourite sage

Then I heard a quiet clonk of my book closing

And drifting into sleep, I smell that aroma of new printing

Ivor Steven (c) September 2019

My Word Vault

I was at my local library yesterday, and it occurred to me, that I’ve been visiting the same quaint little library for over fifty five years…. !! And from those thoughts and many memories, I wrote this Haiku.

Haiku:  My Word Vault 

 

All my soulful words

Lay within your open vaults

Where my dreams began

 

Above Photos: My little Geelong West Library          The spectacular Geelong City Library

 

Ivor Steven (c)  September 2019

Clowns And Geeks On The Exit Bus

The car is garaged, left without a driver

I’m pedalling Yorkie, like a morning biker

Then catching the exit bus, and going down-town

Limping around, like an old clown

Lugging my back-pack, from bus to shops

And plumbing jobs are stuck on stop

 

My purse strings, hold only tattered seams

Dreams of travel, have run out of steam

Just a writer geek, at his computer desk

Unshaven, winter hibernating, feeling grotesque

Here waiting for spring, to thaw my paws

And to keep warming up the exit doors

 

 

Ivor Steven (c) August 2019