A fresh autumn dew
settles upon your browning leaves
stems are wilting and dying too.
I planted you too late
in a large terracotta pot
caringly watered and fed
eventually you grew
tall and climbing askew
groups of yellow flowers
producing bunches of fruit.
Dear Rapunzel tomatoe bush
you cropped me treats
delicious cherry-red bites
now your year is complete
mulched for next seasons heat.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
There’s a darkness within us all
waiting for a hidden call
It’s always the same
a shame
the blame game
that douse’s our flame
I’m a mere man
her glass jar
folds in my hand
released, her radiant star
On her wildest course
Mother earth is a true force
she’ll always be stronger
forgive her warranted anger
Like her lava flowing into the sea
her stormy green eyes melt me
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Do I stay, end up in a geriatric room
or do I fly away to the moon
Live in a cottage by the sea
surrounded by mountains and palm trees
I’ve hundreds of dreams to do
I could take a lady friend too
Marry and honeymoon at Niagara Falls
travel to China and walk the wall
See the sights at our National Park, Kakadu
take a spiritual tour of Kathmandu
Cruise the beautiful European rivers
or just globe-trot anywhere I please
What does the future hold for me
I’d like to be healthy and carefree
Writing poetry like the muse Melpomene
reciting to the world, about her secret key
Featured Image: Bing images, COGnitivecreations_guardianangel.jpg
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
If you could foresee one accomplishment in your future, what would you like it to be?
Her Secret Key.
Do I stay, end up in a geriatric room
or do I fly away to the moon
Live in a cottage by the sea
surrounded by mountains and palm trees
I’ve hundreds of dreams to do
I could take a lady friend too
Marry and honeymoon at Niagara Falls
travel to China and walk the wall
See the sights at our National Park, Kakadu
take a spiritual tour of Kathmandu
Cruise the beautiful European rivers
or just globe-trot anywhere I please
What does the future hold for me
I’d like to keep healthy and carefree
Writing poetry like the muse Melpomene
reciting to the world, about her secret key
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
A special poem I wrote, after I’d taken my Lady to hospital for the last time, on the day of her last birthday. Happy Birthday Carole, and I wonder if you still wonder that I wonder.
Under The Snow.
We emanate to a birthday.
We deflate to a final day.
Birthdays, they all come, they all go.
Birthdays, in the sunshine, under the snow.
Birthdays, slow to mature, quickly an aeon.
Birthdays, before we are born, after we are gone.
Birthdays, hanging on by a breath.
Birthdays, nailed to a cross ’til death.
What’s it all mean to be alive and cry.
What’s it all mean to live and to die.
Ivor Steven. (c) 2018
Do you feel her shame,
viewing my pain.
Left out again,
in the cold rain.
Do you sense my strain,
watching me drain.
More of the same,
in the cold rain.
Do you see her cry,
in her celestial sky.
Left out to dry,
in the cold she did die.
Do you feel her tears again,
sharing the blame.
I hold her shame,
in the cold rain.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
My darkest past
lives within
my brightest cast,
life’s new day is my win.
I’m back to reality
a speck in the crowd,
writing about my journey,
dreaming aloud.
Dreamtime
is the best time.
Giving my heart away
an endless risk
enduring my every day,
an everlasting kiss
caresses my stay,
do you feel my bliss.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
I’m reclining on poolside deck
reading Brendan Ryan’s book*
observing fellow passengers
strolling past, some bustle along,
others meander by,
gazing around and carefree
relaxed, soaking in tropical sunshine
they all smile and say Hi
Penelope and her mother Dianne
stop for a chat
we agree, a nice place to sit
meet friends made on this ship.
We’re in port, at Lifou Island
Tenders take us ashore
I’ve Robert Okaji’s book** in hand
to read while laying on pure white sand,
another glorious day on the beach
the air is warm and humid
a pleasant cool breeze
wisps across my brow
*, **, Book covers below.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Meet Donna, the gorgeous waitress who seems to know my drinking 🍻 habits already, and she makes sure that my fluid intake is maintained for this warm weather. 
Ivor meets Diana and her friends, and more poems are recited. Below some words from Leonard Cohen’s poem “All My News” from his book “Book Of Longing” 3. “Do not decode These cries of mine They are the road and not the sign Nor deconstruct my drugless high I’m sober but I like to fly Then quickened with my open talk You need not pick the ancient lock” His words seemed wonderfully appropriate as my holiday continues to blossom. 😊
My 6.30am walk around the deck. Breathing the purity of the sea air. I’m completely in awe of mother nature’s vast blue carpet and sparkling white caps, and an endless horizon that encircles our voyage. Ivor being Ivor, I’ve met and chatted to lots of happy fellow passengers, and I’ve been reciting my poems to any willing to listen to my words. “there’s Ivor our Poet friend”.
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 