A quiet moment at dusk, evening settling softly around me, unaware the sky hosted its own surprise to share.
Lucky Man: an Evening Surprise (a Tanka)
There I stood waiting
for the wattlebird to fly
out of his gum tree.
Quickly, I snapped a photo —
surprise … do you see it too?”
Sometimes you’re just lucky enough to be standing in the right place at the right time.
Ivor Steven © April 2026
On this Good Friday morning, a lone bird drifts beneath the sun — a small, steady shape moving through a world that still carries its wounds. Watching it, I felt the familiar pull of memory, the long years of care, love, and quiet endurance that shaped my life. This Tanka rose from that moment, from that tear in the sky, and the music below holds the same fragile ache — a home built from devotion, loss, and the tenderness that remains.
Not Good, But I’m Ok (a Tanka)
I fly beneath you
On this Good Friday morning,
And I spy a tear
In the corner of your eye —
Is our World a sinful stye?
Ivor Steven © April 2026
A simple glance upward — two birds, one sky — became the seed of this poem’s wish for peace.
Beyond the Debris (a Tanka)
Come and fly with me
To where we all want to be
In a peaceful world
Of calm seas and olive trees
Beyond our warring debris
Ivor Steven © April 2026
Bathed in soft morning light, this bright sunflower greeted me today — lifting my spirits and reminding me how instinctively nature leans toward renewal.
My Sunflower (aTanka)
Good morning sunshine
Your yellow blush warms my heart
And restores my faith
In humanity’s instinct
To revive our tired planet
Ivor Steven © March 2026
The pigeon’s sudden lift feels like a warning — a fragile life rising above a landscape shaped by pipes, oil, and the killing fields we still feed.
The Desert’s Killing Fields (a Tanka)
The old pigeon flees
From what we cannot perceive
Beneath the earth’s trees
Miles of pipes, full of black gold
The killing fields we still feed
Ivor Steven © March 2026
This Tanka was inspired by a moment of stillness and lift — a bird rising into the blue, catching the wind as if it knew exactly where it needed to go. It’s a small meditation on movement, uncertainty, and the quiet hope that carries us toward calmer places.
To Catch the Wind (a Tanka)
Let me catch the wind,
blowing toward the unknown,
where silver seeds grow
into peaceful olive trees.
beyond the world’s toxic snow.
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Featured Image Above: The Colour of the Dawn Sky Above the Western Horizon
Hello, dear readers and followers. I contribute to Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) every second week, and I’m delighted to share that my latest poem, “Dawn’s Symphony of Light (a Tanka),” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/dawns-symphony-of-light/
Yesterday’s sky felt like it was tuning itself for morning — colours rising, shadows softening, the world humming awake. Today, this Tanka arrived, and Osibisa’s ‘The Dawn’ felt like the perfect companion.”
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Until Eyes Hear Sound
Amazon >> Amazon.com : Until Eyes Hear Sound
Lulu Books >> Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)
Perceptions:
Amazon >> Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >> Perceptions (lulu.com)
Tullawalla:
Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books
OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com … and I can send you a PayPal account,
for the Book, plus Postage.
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Featured Image Above: He calls out early, as if he knows the world is about to tilt again.
Crows in Moscow (a Tanka)
How do the crows know –
when to flee life’s undertow?
Has the status quo
been shot by stupid’s crossbow,
without talking to Moscow?
After all that swooping and shouting, a soft goodbye feels about right.
Ivor Steven © February 2026
Feature Image Above: Created by Copilot and me.
“Ravens fly through the iron‑gate sky, carrying warnings only the attentive will hear.”
The Ravens Warning (a Tanka)
Stealthily they fly,
below the iron‑gate sky—
loud and steely‑eyed.
Ravens warn all passersby:
beware of that sly bad guy.
Under an iron‑gate sky, her voice rises like a warning carried on dark wings
Ivor Steven © February 2026
While the café murmured below, the Corellas held their own rowdy morning meeting in the trees above me.
We’re a Noisy Bunch (a Tanka)
I’m one of many
In a flock of two twenty
I’m a Corella
And when we’re all together
We’re a loud bunch of critters
“A chorus of Corellas above the morning hum.”
Ivor Steven © February 2026
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 