Category: Photos

 

Breakfast Mandarine,  a Haiku

Orange Mandarine

Full of vital vitamins

With a tangy zing

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Sept 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Splinters under the skin

Little wounds so thin

Do solemnly sting

And the crying children sing

For a tiny piece of loving

“Mom”, please remove this thing

Ivor Steven (c)  Sept 2020

the wizard’s blizzards have melted

dormant cocoons are wriggling

spring has exploded

out of the starter’s gun

with an awakening bang

and the chirpy blackbirds

are chorusing a different tune

their winter blue songs have gone

suddenly, warmth and sunshine

muster in the air

heralding a new season

of hope and prosperity

Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2020

Who really are we?

What does the moon perceive?

Will we ever be free?

What’s our secret quest?

Wading forward through this mess

Alone in silence, I’m clueless



We are all under the same strain

Surrounded by these invisible chains

Are we ready to dance in the rain?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained

The outgoing tide will cleanse our veins

And wash our footprints from these muddy planes

Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2020

The misty dawn sky

Awakes to a human cry

And another day again sighs

Asking who’s left on this sty?

Where viruses thrive

Like wasps in a hive

Doing their aggressive jive

Dancing upon who’s left alive

Leaving a deadly sting

On every apron string

No matter who’s left waiting

Who’ll be left to do the colouring-in?

Who’ll be left to do the highland fling?

Who’ll be left to breathe the new oxygen?

Ivor Steven (c) August 2020

This Saturday the Weekend Challenge from “Weekly Prompts”  is Reflections. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking >> Here . And here’s my poem in response to their prompt.

Mirror, Mirror, Who’s Next to Fall



The magic mirror is fractured

My reflection’s distorted

Warped and scattered

I’m cracked and unstructured



How can I recapture my image

And remodel my smile on a ruptured grimace

Am I to go on suffering from this virus wreckage

Another seven years of covid’s viral messages

Ivor Steven (c) August 2020

A sleeping beauty in her nightwear

Pure honesty lived in our home atmosphere

Her truth breathed, the air we shared



Hiding behind white silent doors

They tried to take her from our shores

By nailing her bed to a hospital floor

They heard my stoic voice roar



I told them, they wouldn’t win

“And watch out!! Don’t throw her in

you’ll surely regret your foolish sin

be warned, she’s Circe the Siren”




When I held her sweetness

I believe I touched greatness

And achieved weightlessness

Ivor Steven (c)

Looking down, I saw a garden bed

Looking closer, beyond the bordering edge

There were glossy emerald leaves

And blooms of springtime violets



Looking up, I saw a misty sky

Looking closer, beyond the sky’s diameter

There were twilight’s glassy stars

And dreams of celestial olive eyes

Ivor Steven (c) August 2020

Stumbling out of the ocean

With one eye half open

The other eye half closed

My vision turned cross eyed



I saw only dark skies

And many dirty pig sties

Take the Savior’s pill they said

And leave empty eye-drops for the dead

Ivor Steven (c) August 2020.