
I Am Exhausted (a Tanka)
Beyond the Ashes
Memories and rhymes survived
Seeds were implanted
Dreams of the heart were written
Afterward, exhaustion dwelled
Ivor Steven (c) September 2022
“The Last Chicane” is a poem I wrote in October 2019, and this morning I reworded several lines …

The Last Chicane (Revised)
I have been climbing every rung
Even the broken ones unsung
I have played every sad song
Even when the words were wrong
I saw my bird fly away
Even though her nest stays here today
I have praised my swan’s eternal fight
Even through her turbulent flights
I am listening to the bells chiming
Even above lyrics that are not rhyming
I am beginning to flutter my wings again
Even after missing the last chicane
I am preparing for the next equestrian
Even though I am a lost pedestrian
Ivor Steven (c) September 2022
Recently Ryan Stone [https://daysofstone.wordpress.com/] introduced me to a new poem format Musette, and today I am presenting my first attempt at writing a Musette.
“Musette”
three verses
first line – 2 syllables
second line – 4 syllables
third line – 2 syllables
rhyme scheme – a/b/a c/d/c e/f/e
title reflects poems content
A Steep Slide (a Musette)
I creep
Down the steep slide
I weep
Betrayed
I hide and shake
Afraid
I crawl
Away from shame
And bawl
Ivor Steven (c) September 2022
Hobbling along
A tear sodden path
I stumble
Beneath heavy morning clouds
Shaken
I feel the shadow
Of her unfortunate life
Pass over me
From beyond the atmosphere
Of this disheartening world
Out there, somewhere
In our universe
Her eternal star
Somehow, right now
Illuminates my soul
Ivor Steven (c) August 2022
The Wednesday challenge from Weekly Prompts is: CYCLING … please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> Here … My poem today is a “Repost” from January 7th 2019, and some of my followers may remember my hectic rehab’ time after my stroke in early December. I had to get myself fit enough to fly to New York by April 24th …
Well here it is Thursday evening in Geelong, 10.55pm, and I’m editing my new book “Perceptions” again … oh well that’s “the undertow of life”

Yorkie, Against the Undertow
I’m seated on my silver bike, called Yorkie
Pedalling slow and steadily
I’m not actually moving
But I am dreaming
Thinking of places I could be
Visualising what I might see
If I can keep pushing
I’ll end up with a Qantas cushion
I know the year is new and early
But I’m feeling unfit and unworldly
There’s a long way for my body to go
There’s no turning back, despite the undertow
Ivor Steven (c) August 2022
Hello dear readers and followers, I am pleased to announce that I have managed to produce my “Twenty Nineth Tullawalla” Booklet … For new readers that don’t know about these booklets, they are basically the reason why I write poetry. I produce these ‘home-printed’ booklets for the sole purpose of raising funds for my favourite charity organisation, the MS Society, in Australia via the MS Charity Shop here in Geelong. And actually all money’s I receive for any of my poetry .via, submissions, I donate to the MS Society…. I’m proud to announce, that the sale of my “Tullawalla Booklets”, have now gone pass $1500.00, … to all the lovely readers, who have donated, to help achieve such a wonderful amount, a big heartfelt thank you, from “us” and the MS Society … …..Incredibly, there is now a total of “1255 poems”, Yep, well over “A Thousand Poems” in my collection/series of “29” Tullawalla Booklets. After 3 months, this booklet is finally completed, and ready for sale now !! As always, they are available for purchase, either as a hard copy ‘Booklet’, or a PDF format….. All proceeds go to the MS Charity Shop, here in Geelong West….. Please contact me here through my website page and I can chat to you about arrangements from there…. Oh, the booklet is called “Tullawalla, Today, Beside the Sea”… And here is the link to my website >> https://ivors20.wordpress.com

Today, Beside the Sea
After I left the fish tank
I lived on a nearby riverbank
Close to the connected sea
I would look beyond the ocean
Out to the dark blue horizon
As far as the eye could see
That was the ocean
That was our river
And now her river has been set free
An ebb tide that flows through me
Today beside the sea
I wait here
For tomorrow’s horizon
To set me free
Ivor Steven (c) July 2022
Next Sunday at my monthly “Poetry Dome” meeting we are required to write a ‘Villanelle’ , and below is my attempt at the ‘Format’ … which I have adapted from an old favourite poem of mine, “Everlasting Smile”, you’ll find my original poem attached below the Villanelle …
Her Everlasting Smile (a Villanelle)
I wonder, was it all worthwhile
My chest, heavy as never before
Remembering, her everlasting smile
I look back, on her unfortunate life-style
Being unable to walk and talk anymore
I wonder, was it all worthwhile
I relive, her personal exile
My throat, swollen and sore
Remembering, her everlasting smile
I hesitate, retracing every mile
My tears, splash on the floor
I wonder, was it all worthwhile
I cringe, behind my happy profile
My heart, has forgotten how to roar
Remembering, her everlasting smile
I sleep alone, awaiting the next trial
My tongue, tired, needs to say more
I wonder, was it all worthwhile
Remembering, her everlasting smile
______________________________________
______________________________________
Everlasting Smile
My eyes, narrowly cracked.
My cheeks, slightly etched.
I rest here, retracing every mile.
Remembering, your everlasting smile.
My lips, already dry.
My tongue, trying to say goodbye.
I wonder, was it all worthwhile.
Remembering, your loneliest smile.
My throat, lumpy and sore.
My chest, heavy as never before.
I look back, recalling your life-style.
Remembering, your younger smile.
My lungs, empty and tight.
My legs, weak and light.
I relive, your personal exile.
Remembering, your generous smile.
My head, spinning from fright.
My heart, deep and out of sight.
I sleep alone, crying like a child.
Remembering, your everlasting smile.
Ivor Steven (c) July 2022
I found this old poem in a dusty foolscap folder under a pile of “stuff” I was tidying up … maybe from 15 years …

Today’s poem is one that I have not published on my web/blog site, and I am not sure when I first wrote the original words. Up until now, this a piece that has been filed away in a foolscap folder.
A Voice in the Mist
The moon’s my patriarch
My dream, glowing in the dark
She’s a vision, no feel, no mound
Only a voice, without sound
A distant shining, so forlorn
My heartache until dawn
She’s a pillow, no caress, no kiss
Only a voice, from beyond the mist
Ivor Steven (c) July 2022
G’day, and welcome to my blog site. My name is Ivor Steven, I live in Geelong, Australia. I’m an ex-industrial chemist, and a retired plumber, and a former Carer of my wife(Carole), for 30 years, who suffered from severe MS. I Write poetry about those personal thoughts, throughout and beyond my life as a Carer…
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“Dad”
My Guiding Light
Seven years have gone bye
But who counts stars in the sky
Or the passing blue moons
Waving shadows upon blue lagoons
A waterfall’s pool of liquid joy
Shimmering memories, of when I was a boy
I shiver from yesteryear’s leftover rains
And there will always be a deep river in my veins
Dad, you were a brother and best mate too
And your ever-loving spirit guides me through
Ivor Steven (c) July 3rd 2022
After times of sorrow
Hope lives on,
in tomorrow
So sings,
my little sparrow
All my mountains
have been climbed
All my climbs
had their falls and failures
Then ultimately
I tried to reach my goal
“Except that the goal
Falls short of the reach” … Leonard Cohen, from his song ‘The Goal’
Ivor Steven © May 2022