The Last Chicane

 

 

The Last Chicane

 

I’ve been climbing every rung

Even the broken ones unsung

I’ve played every sad song

Even when the words were wrong

 

I felt my bird fly away

Even though her nest stays here today

I’ve praised my swan’s eternal flight

Even through the hardest fights

 

I’m listening to the bells chiming

Even above lyrics that aren’t rhyming

I’m beginning to flutter my wings again

Even after missing the last chicane

I’m preparing for the next equestrian

Even tasting potions of bubbling champagne

 

Ivor Steven (c)  October 2019

A Day At Eastern Beach

Hello dear readers, and dear Sue(Nan’s Farm-Inside Out)…. here I am on the beach, yeah !! yes a long 18 months since I’ve been able to feel the warm sand between my toes…. not hot enough for swim yet, but I could smell the fresh sea air…… In my excitement I took all of these photos (and More). The sun was shining and it was a pleasant 23’C.

Eastern Beach, on Corio Bay                             The Geelong Yacht Club

Ivor with the famous Bollards**                         More of the sculptured Bollards**

The enclosed beach area within the perimeter of the promenade

Some views as I was walking around the promenade

The salt-water pool, where Ivor learnt to swim (55 years ago)

Yachts on Corio Bay                                               Steps and fountain down to the beach

The children’s pool area

The lush lawn expanses at the beach                Looking back to the Geelong City centre

I hope you all enjoyed viewing these photos, as much as I enjoyed my outing to the beach on this a memorable day for me…….

 

**Jan Mitchell’s Waterfront Bollards

No visitor to Geelong’s magnificent waterfront precinct can miss the whimsical bollards that stretch from Rippleside to Limeburners Point. Painted by local artist Jan Mitchell, the bollards have become an icon of Geelong. Sadly Jan is no longer with us but she has left a lasting legacy which will put a smile on just about anyone who comes face to face with these unique and much loved pieces of public art.

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  October 2019

 

From Big To Small

Today’s Weekly Photo Prompt is: Big and Small.… and I believe the topic is open to one’s own interpretation…..  Please go and visit the fabulous “Weekly Prompts” site >> Here

Tonight I’m making two BIG bowls of salad’s for my dinner. The BIG bowls of salad will probably last me most of the week, for my dinner meals. The two salads I made were a Potatoe Salad and a Broccoli Salad. I had a SMALL serve of each salad with my barbeque lamb loin chop…. Then for sweets I had a SMALL serve of mango yogurt.

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Above: my two BIG bowls of salad, the broccoli salad, top of photo, and potatoe salad at the bottom of the photo…

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Above: A SMALL serve of each salad with my barbeque lamb loin chop….

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Above: The recipe for the Broccoli Salad, and yes, it’s yummy….

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Above: My SMALL Mango Yogurt, also very yummy…… actually a Greek style yogurt

 

Ivor Steven (c)  October 2019

My Kite And Bike

Another older poem from last year, and quaintly appropriate for this historical gold-mining town of Ballarat

My Kite And Bike 

Here I am in this ancient town

Climbing the local mystical Blue Mountains

Standing in the world’s greenest paddock

Flying my yellow and purple kite

On that old magical golden thread

My kite is soaring higher and higher

Towards our planet’s crimson sky

A sky covered by the clouds rainbow hues

Creamy clouds, opaque, thick and soft

Powerful and solid grey, hovering aloft

Where pristine snowflakes abound

All bright and shiny white

Heavy enough to ride my silver bike on

Peddle my way through today’s slippery black-ice

And wallow in the colourful heights of tomorrow

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Not Here Nor There

I’m feeling a bit older this morning after last night’s party!! , so here’s an older poem I’m reposting…

Not Here Nor There

My time is slowly passing.

Age is creeping, not lasting.

I’m frail and growing older.

My body shivers when it’s colder.

And sweats like hell, in the heat.

My mind is feeble and weak.

I don’t seem to remember.

Whether it’s March, April, or September.

Here I sit, what am I doing.

There I look, where am I going.

There I ask, what’s for tea my dear.

Oh, I forgot, she’s not here.

Well best I retire to bed.

And wrest this weary head.

Under a linen sheet, like a hood.

Laying here, on this piece of wood.

Ivor Steven (c) October 2019

Spoil Me, (With Apologies To David Redpath)

Featured Image Above: The Box Office Cafe, kitchen, which is made from an old shipping container.

 

 

 

 

Spoil Me, (With Apologies To David Redpath)

 

Sorry David, but here I am again

At West Geelong’s, Box Office Cafe

Spoiling myself, for Saturday lunch

Geelong’s own version, of ‘Go Dog Go Cafe’

Where owners and their furry pals all meet

Chatting and barking, one social togetherness

And yes, I get to give the doggies, pats and hugs

There’s Bronson, the well behaved little Pug

Duke, a very young Dalmatian, he’s going to be a big boy

And another Duke, a striking auburn Labrador

 

Sorry David, I’m going to describe my feast now

Firstly, a real Aussie cappuccino coffee

Followed by Bao Buns, with slow cooked pork

A sweet and sour glaze, and fresh herbs

With cucumber, pickled carrot, fried shallots

Complimented by a delicate Gochujang mayonnaise

Then of course, I had to have a delicious cake

David, I couldn’t resist, a Berry Velvet teacake

Leaving me no option, but to wash it all down

With one of those politically incorrect, Blackman’s lagers

Cheers everyone, I’ll be on holiday, in Ballarat this week

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  October 2019

On The Wings Of A Dove

On The Wins Of A Dove 

 

How do I write to you

With these tears blurring my sight

Five months since my heart left your home

Your hot summer has been and gone

Oh, to be beside you

To hold your warm hand

 

You may hear my chest beating

Echoing, from over there

The rumbling is not a broken ache

More that of a loving heavy throb

A longing, pumping thump

Oh, to be beside you again

 

To see your adoring smile

I miss our knowing talks

Me, reciting to you

With that sparkle in your eyes

Oh. to be beside you still

So, I send you this letter

On the wings of a dove

I miss our united love

 

Ivor Steven (c) October 2019

As The Crow Fly’s

Haiku:

As The Crow Fly’s

 

From grey tree branches

In sunlit sky, black crow sings

To all passing bye

 

Today I’m presenting two interesting music/videos, the first one is “Blackbirds”, by Gretchen Peters, a big thank you to Debbie, for the introduction to her, via her wonderful poem and article today >>https://gloriasmud.com/2019/10/04/its-only-a-song/

And the second, music/video, is from the “Black Whistle Singers” in Crow Agency Montana, singing a traditional American Indian song.

Ivor Steven (c)  October 2019