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.

Calmness On The Bay

There’s a serene tranquil calmness

Hovering over this panoramic bay

The cloudy sky’s silkily reflected

Upon it’s benign smooth waters

The shoreline’s fresh-air is gently cool

Creating a peaceful atmosphere of awe and wonder

Impressing local onlookers and tourist alike

Beholding a picturesque, enchanting balminess

Soothing to all those enraptured souls

Fortunate to view the waterfronts afternoon artistry

Blue Yonder: By David Francey, Lyrics

Here on the ground
It’s a long way down
To the land down under
And all I want to do
Is ride into the blue yonder
Id’ beep in the sky
And I’d be higher than high
And it’s no wonder
That all I want to do
Is ride into the blue yonder
Into the blue yonder
Into the blue yonder
All I want to do
Is ride into the blue yonder
I’d be up in the clouds
And I’d be laughing out loud
With the world to wander
And all I want to do
Is ride into the blue yonder
I’ll be into the blue
And I’ll be gone and through
And I’ll be out from under
And all I want to do
Is ride into the blue yonder
Into the blue yonder

Into the blue yonder

All I want to do

Is ride into the blue yonder

Ivor Steven (c) 2019

Odds And Ends, The Ancient Tree

Time

Oh, time and time again

we wish for time to slow down

preserve our time’s in the sun and rain

and under stars, where lover’s caresses are crowned

Tree

The ancient tree of life, scatter your peace

Please sow and share every growing piece

Why

“Don’t Ask Me Why”

‘Cause I don’t know why,

there’s red and blue sky

How,

Do bats fly

Pigs eat in a sty

And politicians lie

Dark

We all have a dark side

Like the moon’s other-side

There to be explored

Or left behind on the blackboard

Vultures

Alive or half dead, we’re the prey of vultures

Poised like loaded guns in a holster

Waiting to strike the poor and innocent

And even the unwilling ignorant

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

A Picture Story

Every picture tells a story

I will not show the bloody war pictures

No need to add to the gruesome tale

Everybody knows the score

Our leaders know, how many were lost at war

Instead, I’ve a different photo, of a tablecloth

A wedding gift of my parents

Now my family heirloom

Aged over seventy years old

Embroidered Peacocks on fine linen

I wonder how often the tablecloth has been used

Not as many times as nuclear bombs have been fused

How many people have sat around the tablecloth and eaten

Not as many people as the war’s have maimed and beaten

Ask world politicians and know-all dictators

They’ll all know the forgotten bloody score

That’s my enduring tablecloth picture story

Same old hidden facts of hell and rancid glory

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

 

Day Lily And Love

Hello readers, I’m posting a poem I wrote last year, about my lovely Day Lily, which is actually a former plant of my father’s, so really I’ve lovingly inherited the flower, and I’m always pleased to see it bloom. I’m not sure why, but it’s flowering 4 weeks earlier than last year.

Upon my pillow I sleep

Good morning, I do peek

From the cushion of my dreams

A pads radiating beams

Blushing red hues, oh so bright

You bloom during the night

After cuddling the dew

You open up your scenic view.

Flowering, standing proud and steep

Perfection at my feet

A glorious Lily, like wings of a dove

And by Day you air your love

Ivor Steven (c) 2018.

Walk The Walk

In response to The Weekly Photo Prompt, this weeks prompt is: Walking

I’m on a walking program to get fit for my trip to New York at the end of April. I’ve joined a walking group, via WordPress, the other members live in America, we call ourselves the “Turbo Snails”, and I’ve installed a “step counter app”, on my phone. The aim of the group is to walk every day, and record how many steps we have done, and gradually increase the steps per day, over a weekly period. My first two weeks(almost) have been steady and my progress seems to be increasing. I shall take my chart to my physiotherapist on Monday. The main priority, is for me to consistently undertake the daily walk, and naturally the step count will increase over time. As wobbly as I am, the first two weeks has been a pleasant success, in the context of my progress made so far !! , a total of 27,530 steps…. and on January 1st, that amount seemed an impossible target… I was then struggling to step out of the house…

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Ivor Steven (c)  2019

The Green Witch’s Old Broom

My locked bubble is about to go boom

Too long I’ve been a stranger in my own tomb

Under a concrete lid, hiding my gloom

Where my world was a Hades of doom

 

Now these walls are my life-giving womb

Being reborn as a smiling used groom

I’m breaking out of my master bedroom

Escaping on the green witch’s old broom

 

Flying to the distant land in springtime bloom

Where I won’t have to wear my mask and costume

Discarding my orange Kaftan from Khartoum

I’ll invade the big apple’s newsrooms, to broadcast my poetry heirlooms

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Don’t Ask Me Why

Hi dear readers, I’ve found this old poem in my folder of poetry called “Love And Reflection”. I’ve changed a few words, so the poem is in the present tense, but basically the words are in the same format. I’ve had it hidden away for a while, the poem is quite personal and emotional for me, I hope you enjoy reading my words from 6 years ago.

Don’t Ask Me Why

 

Unknowingly, I often dream of her serene ashen face

Years ago, I gently held her frailty in my tired arms

Softly I whispered to her, my last words of love and grace

Don’t ask me why, I count the moons since I missed her charms

Because I cannot give you a sensible or plausible answer

Don’t ask me why, I count the stars since I lost my way

Because I’m unable to fathom the depths of my inner cancer

Don’t ask me why, I count my every heart beat, since she died that day

Because now, I’ve nearly recovered

And somehow, life has been steadily rediscovered

Remembering, she’ll never ever go away

Knowing someday, I’ll be allowed to stay

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Yorkie And Me

Yorkie’s staring at me vacantly

Like I’m a strange tattooed bikie

Sitting on him, me anxiously crying away

Why am I crying, he quietly says

Looking at me with those big silver eyes

Pondering whether he’s hurting me

Is the ride too much pain

Is all the walking a physical drain

No !! None of that I exclaim, crying tears again

I’m crying wondering, if I’ll ever get there

Crying, because I cannot wait to be there

Crying with embarrassment, for the tears I’ll shed when I’m there

Suddenly, Yorkie barks out at me

Oh Ivor, keep pedalling, toughen-up and and you’ll arrive

Yes, me and my companion Yorkie, have become friends.

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019