Author: ivor20

Where Theo’s tiny tomato and shy seedlings work their quiet miracles… with one curious assistant nearby.

An Anti-depressant Pill, or, Theo’s First Tomato


Lately, my mind has been wandering,
and my tired old quill is meandering
between the lines of my poignant writings.
I’ve been anxiously worrying
about our weary, war-torn world.

In the morning, I gave my ink well
an anti-depressant pill.
The good Doctor Who had prescribed
a relaxing dose of courtyard gardening.

The effervescent tonic worked miracles.
Today, Theo* has produced his first baby tomato,
and my recently planted sunflower seeds
have sprouted into healthy little seedlings.
And the courtyard whispered,
‘There you are… stay awhile.’



*Theo the Tomato bush, who started his miraculous journey late in May, the beginning of our winter.

Ivor Steven ©  January 2026

A quiet day indoors — Frankie dozing, Lisa O’Neill singing, and words drifting through the heat.



Upbeat in the Heat


A hot north wind is scorching everything.
The sun is blazing;
inside, we are hiding.
Frankie is sleeping,
And I am writing.
while listening
To Lisa O’Neill Singing
and pondering
how amazing
that her lyrics are always resonating
with the drift of my own wanderings.

“Birdy From Another Realm” Enlightens me with colours; his song is like no other.

Ivor Steven ©  January 2026

Featured Image Above: Created by Copilot and me.

It was a rare summer’s morning — the moon falling, the sun rising, both holding the same height in the sky. I stood between them for a moment longer than I meant to, feeling something shift, something settle. The poem began forming there and then, carried on a bridge of clouds. To complete the moment, I’ve paired it with Lisa O’Neill’s The Globe — a song that feels as earthy and genuine as the morning itself.




Between Here and the Edge

I’m no ancient mariner
with a sextant to chart the sky
The moon was falling into bed,
the sun rising ahead,
both at the same height,
as if I were the hinge between them.

Here I stand on their earthbound bridge
at the centre of my own universe,
unsure of my footing near the edge –
am I fading into the advancing ground,
or drifting back toward an old wedding pledge.

The Globe, Lisa O’Neill, Lyris

[Verse 1]
When I was small
Two feet tall
I thought that the world
Was a map on the wall
And that globe of a ball
We′d spin and explore
But that world showed no door to me

[Verse 2]
I grew more
In feet and in lore
I learned to read ’bout the globe
In through the windows of my eyes
I sang the blues and greens
I touched on things one only sings
When they’ve found the key
And still the world in all my awe
Showed no door to me

[Verse 3]
Not wholly old
I’ve paved some road
I’m taller than I’ll ever be
I’ve learnеd things I cannot sing
I spin relentlessly
I pluggеd out of self in doubt
In soul misplaced the key
And lo and behold
That cruel old globe
Went showed its door to me

Ivor Steven  ©  January 2026