Hot Cross Buns and Chocolates

Hello readers and followers, the poem I am reposting today is an ”Alphabet” poem that I wrote in April 2019, two days before I left to fly to NewYork, on my way to visiting my Philadelphia cousins, who I had never met, and of course I was also to meet my favourite niece and penpal “Kerri” for the “First” time … So, I thought I would try to write my “First” every Alphabet Poem, to celebrate my “First” every trip to New York and Philadelphia …




Hot Cross Buns and Chocolates


America, here I come, ready or not

Beyond my bed-zoned borders

Chasing those forgotten horizons

Dreams are finally blossoming

Easter treats are tucked in my pockets

Fancy editions of my poems, are packed in the case

Giant airports and planes abound

Hot cross buns, and more chocolates are eaten

Inspiring my week’s holiday mood

Jet engines soaring aloft

Kidnapping me by default

Lawyers left floundering

My medical records lost in transit

Naughty nightingales, again covering for me

Opening my doorways, to the promised land

Passing high above the melody, at heaven’s archway

Quarantine played, Leonard’s Tower Of Song

Rumblings, I hear from a distant Bensalem yard

Spiritual chants, from my family circle

Telepathic messages, humming on a magic carpet ride

Unbroken my promise, now to be honoured

Vikings and villains to be avoided

Weapons disguised, under the statues torch of liberty

Xylophones I hear, playing on the streets of New York

Young ladies are dancing to my tune, Hallelujah

Zero-ground, salutes me there, staying upside down






Ivor Steven (c) May 2022

My River Flows, is up at Coffee House Writers Magazine

Hello dear readers and followers, as you may know, I now write for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem“My River Flows”, is in this weeks edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. … please click on the link below to read my poem, at Coffee House Writers >> https://coffeehousewriters.com/my-river-flows/






Ivor Steven (c) May 3rd 2022

Worldly Smirk (a Tanka)

The Ekphrastic poetry workshop I attended on Wednesday was an inspiring event, and here I have written a tanka about a clay figurine as depicted in my Featured Image above.

Worldly Smirk (a Tanka)




I do not know you

But your glassy eyes know me

Why that worldly smirk

I have a million questions

Do you have all the answers






Ivor Steven (c) May 2022

Throwback Friday, Waiting Time, by Ivor Steven

Readers who follow my blog site would know that I attended an Ekphrastic Poetry Workshop during the week, and my poem here today is from a previous Ekphrastic workshop that I went to, in September 2018

ivor20's avatarGo Dog Go Café

Readers who follow my blog site would know that I attended an Ekphrastic Poetry Workshop during the week, and my poem here today is from a previous Ekphrastic workshop that I went to, in September 2018

Above is the Chapbook published by Geelong Writers, and the magnificent painting by Graeme Altmann, that inspired my poem ‘Waiting Time’

Waiting Time

I’m a time-traveler on a mission

Waiting for a personal vision

An image of my father’s ghost

To appear above the white-water coast

Millenniums ago, I delivered him to the ocean

Threw his ashes across the horizon

Away from faceless time-clocks

Away from hidden jagged rocks

Now I see him, proudly standing afloat

Wondering, who’s left to row the boat

Waiting for the breeze, without a sail

Seeking his passage through soundless hail

Beyond tumbling waves, a prism of light

Waiting stops, his alien spirit soars tonight

Ivor Steven (c) Sept…

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A Banner Of Sunflowers

Continuing on from yesterday’s Ekphrastic poetry workshop, here is my poetic response to Shirley Drayton’s creative piece of textile artwork “Golden Sunflowers”

A Banner Of Sunflowers


look!

up there

above the War’s

darkest clouds

there is a blue banner

embroided with sunflowers

swaying

through a hole

in the eastern sky


bearing a message

of ‘Hello’

or is it ‘Goodbye’?

a sweeping reminder

from our Ancestors

we feel your suffering and pain

from the merciless hard rain

blood filled rivers and cratered plains

smoke filled skylines and cracked windowpanes”


however, we also know

beyond the broken horizon

the sunflower seeds of hope

will germinate again

and future seeds for peace

will regenerate a new campaign






Ivor Steven (c) May 2022

The Foundry Pottery Studio


Ekphrastic Poetry Workshop

Today I was invited to participate in a special poetry workshop where we could use one (or more) of the works of art on display as a prompt for the creation of a poetic response (the products of visual artists begetting products of a literary art!). The workshop was facilitated in situ at The Foundry Pottery Studio exhibition venue.

We have been given a few days to create our poems in response to the fascinating exhibition, and tonight I am presenting the photos I took at the rustic and interesting venue.

Featured Image Above: “Golden Sunflowers”, Shirley Drayton, Textile Art, the piece I have chosen to write about








Ivor Steven (c) May 2022

Back On The Tools

Sorry reader and followers for my lack of blogging today (and tomorrow) … The old poet traded his quill in this morning (and again tomorrow), for his old rusty spanner and diirty hammer ..




Back On The Tools. (adapted from “An Old-time Plumber”)


Could I actually do the task?

Am I physically strong enough?

Am I mentally sharp and stable enough?

To endure two days of hard work?


Surprise, surprise, I survived day one

Job nearly completed and clients suitably pleased

And I am home enjoying a red wine

Although when I finished it was almost dark

And my back was stiff as red-gum bark

But a job stamped by my old-time quality trademark



Sunflower Seeds (a Tanka)

Over at Weekly Prompts, the monthly Colour Challenge for May is:  Mellow Yellow. Please go and visit their fabulous site by clicking >> Here . Below is my “Tanka” response to their ‘Colour Prompt’ ..



Sunflower Seeds (a Tanka)



Blue skies were mellow

Fields were peaceful and yellow

Sunflowers grew free

Then foreign tanks squashed their seeds

On tomorrow’s scarred harrows






Ivor Steven (c) May 2022