In the hush of a calm bay, the moon lifts above the palms as if ready to whisper its small truth to the night.
Full Moon Rising
There is a hush in the air
Below the full moon’s stare
Silence is golden
Eveningtide unfolding
The bay is dead calm
As the moon glares
Through Rippleside’s palms
“Why look at me
I’m only a tiny spirit
in the universe’s eternal sea.“
“Scan beyond your sandy quay
to find your celestial key.”
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Featured Image Above: Created by Copilot and me.
Where the day opens its wings to truth
Nature’s Honest Sky (a Tanka)
Why retire your wings
When you’re still able to fly
Through the soft white clouds
There in nature’s azure sky
Where the air always feels true
Let this song drift beneath the wings of the poem — a soft score for nature’s honest sky.’
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
Rain still falling, sun breaking through, and the sky opening into two bright arcs. A moment too rare to ignore — and one that followed me into my dreams
Under the Leaking Astrodome
Despite the steamy summer rain,
Nature beckoned me to keep walking.
The late afternoon’s overcast sky
Was her theatre’s silver screen.
Within the leaking astrodome,
I witnessed a grand mystical show.
Sunbeams were breaking clear
From behind the shrouding clouds,
And a long, majestic rainbow arch –
not just one bright rainbow ribbon,
but a magical double rainbow.
How serendipitously fortunate was I,
even if I was soaked to the bone.
Ancient mythologies say that such rare revelations,
whisper of storms clearing within the spirit.
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Feature Image Above: Created by Copilot and me
The moon rises quietly, guiding my cross-eyed downside away from the world’s wide landslide.
Who Shines On Me?
Who is he, who is she,
who shines on me
so forlornly?
There, from the other side
of the sky’s great divide,
where eveningtide
cannot be denied.
Then the twilight moon guided
my cross-eyed downside
away from the world’s wide
and worsening landslide.
For the quiet places where the moon lifts us beyond what we think we see.
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
Featured Image Above: Created by Copilot and me, A man stands at the edge of time, where the foreshore fades, and the door to the encore glows.
Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in January 2024) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as the opening poem in the Micri Poem section of Chapter 10, Time’s Short Poems: Haiku, Tanka, etc.
The Last Encore
I am standing on
the diminishing foreshore
Staring at that
missing ground floor
“Like there was a door”
Between here
and the last encore
And so we stand, between here and the last encore — listening for time’s quiet applause.
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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 © February 2026
A heavy sky lingering above a thirsty summer, offering a brief, warm whisper of rain.
Summer Rainclouds
The sombre summer clouds
are languishing low overhead.
I can almost touch the greyness –
unfortunately, it’s not raining.
The aura of stillness is unsettling,
and the silence is deafening
But wait – from behind the gloom
I hear Thor’s thunderous roar,
and simultaneously, I see fat drops
warmly splattering on the ground
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
Featured Image Above: Created by Copilot and me
Shaped during my quiet breaks at Market Day, inspired by yesterday’s twilight and today’s steady rhythm behind the stall.
Leftover Heirlooms
I’m roaming around
the inner zone of Shadowland,
the heart of twilight’s middle ground.
Inquiringly peering down
upon the sun’s retiring nightgown.
Above her hessian costume,
the fading crescent moon
is also descending into the world’s bedroom.
Again, I am an abandoned groom
from life’s fragmented honeymoon,
here clutching nostalgia’s leftover heirlooms.
After drafting this poem during my quiet breaks at Market Day, Lisa Hannigan’s ‘Oh Undone’ felt like the perfect soundtrack to its twilight reflections.
Ivor Steven © February 2026
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 