Hi to my dear readers. I read this article by Niki Flow yesterday, and I couldn’t sleep last night, and this morning I’m still feeling quite aggrieved. So I thought best I read reblog her post, and then we can all share “What Happens To The Heart”. Please read and make a comment on her page thank you.
https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/07/08/i-am-not-a-child-i-am-an-adult-i-can-help/
I have a computer, but mine is still being reconstructed by my younger brother(Lawrie) he’s a computer Engineer !! Apparently my Motherboard is stuffed. So whatever is still usable out of my old machine he’ll restructure into my reformatted computer, “Yep”, he’s clever. In the mean-time he’s set me up with this temporary computer, which uses a “Linux” system, quite different to my “Windows 10”, however it allows me to use WordPress. So here I am, “I’m Back”, and now some music from “Melanie”, 1970, Oh I had a crush on her way back then, I was a young naive lad of 19 !!. And after you play Melanie, there’s no Ivor post without some music from the impeccable Mr Leonard Cohen, and this is one of my fav’ pieces of his music/lyrics, “One Of Us Cannot Be Wrong” , enjoy my dear friends, and soak up his incredible words. Replay and replay, and then absorb his passion !!
I hear the wind whistling in the trees
Rustic sounds of rustling leaves
Swirling down through the branches
Prancing colourful dancers
Faery’s of the forest floor
Mother nature’s spiritual encores
I hear the wind applause for more
Seasonal breezes carrying pollen spores
Germinating ancient lands over the eons
Eden’s garden of blossom and vines
Serving our tables full of apples and wines
I hear the wind whispering memories and rhymes
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
welcome to our home
the house of rustic timber and stone
home is where my heart is now
and now I live here alone
but I’m cosy and comfortable
wearing the same old shoes
talking and walking her every mile
she’s in every covering stone
she’s in the marrow of my bones
we share the air I breathe
inhaling her gracious spirit
capturing her living essence
absorbing her love into my blood
flowing through my pumping veins
cascading upon my open heart
caressing my solitary core
embracing our glorious souls as one
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Saturday was a brilliant day
Last night the rain poured into Sunday
The heavy drops washed lustre away
A cold wind cut through my chest today
I’m reading the news from yesterday
The vulnerable children are still crying
Court deadlines are being ignored
Thousands of innocent hearts still torn
Pierced by government swords
Wielded from behind their closed doors
Hear the multitude’s pleading words
Listen to your conscience
See the children’s pain
Let their candles burn in the rain
A special thanks to Elle, for supplying the above quote by Margaret Mead, and to Sue for her guidance in setting up my “Voice to Text” app’
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
The sun is shining, the day is grand, I found our Anniversary band, made of pure silver, here in my hand, I’ll mount it on a stand, like the day she placed the gift in my hand, hand in hand we still stand, our feet sharing the warm sands, yes my memories are grand, so let’s strike up the band.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Three decades I cared for her
My loving wife
Tending to her sorrowful erosions
We sailed many stormy Seas together
Crashing waves upon crushing waves
She was battered
I was torn
Miraculously we survived
Our wounded hearts grew closer
I admired her courage and grace
I worshipped her unabated love
Then her finality occurred
Our souls have never parted
Entwined, the same as when we started
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
I eat, I drink, I sleep
I casually dream of yesterday’s
I Shamefully wonder about tomorrow’s
I’m walking along my sunny street
I’m alive and free as a bird
But I’m anxiously emotional about tomorrow
Will the children wake-up without crying
Will the children see sunlight today
Will the children be with their parents tomorrow
Where are the mindless sleeping
Where are their consciences today
Where are their lies going tomorrow
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Do you see above the horizon
A bright white winter moon
Silhouetted against the afternoon sky
Do you see my vision
A dark blue dusk, like a cloudless spoon
Cupping my angels ivory chalice ahigh
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
In my hand I hold a beam
The smallest of silver screens
Reflecting my hidden dreams
My pocket mirror of silent screams
Shamefully I’m blushing blood red
Deeply scolding myself instead
Selfishly my crash is but a drop in the ocean
Seeing rivers of crushed tears dripping from the children
Children alone, yet to be reunited
Children trashed and yet unsighted
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 