In my hand I hold a beam
The smallest of silver screens
Reflecting my hidden dreams
My pocket mirror of silent screams
Shamefully I’m blushing blood red
Deeply scolding myself instead
Selfishly my crash is but a drop in the ocean
Seeing rivers of crushed tears dripping from the children
Children alone, yet to be reunited
Children trashed and yet unsighted
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
WEEKLY PROMPTS, PHOTO CHALLENGE
Our Photo Challenge is , Bucolic
I live on the out-skirts of Geelong, and the city is a reasonable size with a population of 240,000. But here I am, virtually on the town’s northwestern back fence, and only a dead-end dirt road is outside my front door.
The back fences of north-west Geelong The dirt lane outside my home.
At the end of my dirt lane is a walking path that I use frequently. I can walk to my favourite coffee venue, The Moorabool Valley Chocolate Cafe, set in a rustic homestead with a beautiful view over the Moorabool River Valley. Attached link is a poem about the cafe. https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/10/15/cheeky-magpie/
The view over the Moorabool Valley Sunset along the walking path
The featured image at the beginning of the post is of our local mountain ranges, called the You-Yangs. Here the picture is taken from Geelong’s Eastern Park/Botanical Gardens, looking across Corio Bay towards the You-Yangs.
A Slide-show of pictures from around our City By The Bay
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
“Knowledge be gets Wisdom
Teach our children more knowledge
Our children will learn to be more wise”
Ivor Steven.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Weekly Prompts Photo Challenge
Squares And Rounds
Do you see what I see
There’s a kennel on the shed
‘Twas a little dogs favourite bed
Do you see what I see
There’s a five foot hole in the ground
Plumbing pipes all around
Do you see what I see
There are stormwater pipes under the house
An old plumbers been a dirty mouse
Do you see what I see
There are downpipe boxes and bends
A craftsman joined the ends
Shapes are up
shapes are down
Squares and rounds
The plumber’s had a busy week
The poet’s feeling tired and meek
Far too sore to even speak
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Weekly Prompts– Photo Challenge – Timeworn I’ve found this baby book of my dad’s. The book is nearly 70 years old, given to my parents by my grandmother, my mothers mom, to celebrate the birth of my older brother, Danny
Above, bottom right, my parents with Danny. 1949.
Above, my dad’s log of Danny’s first 4 weeks.
Above, in the left frame, my grandmother, Elizabeth, with Danny, and on the right, my mom, Esther, with Danny.
Then came Ivor and my little brother, Lawrence.
And finally mom had a daughter that she always wanted, Myfanwy Glenys, and interestingly dad also logged the birth of Myfanwy’s daughter April.
Oh… This is a later attachment, have been feeling quite nostalgic since I posted this article, and I’m adding this lovely song, I hope you enjoy.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
“Fellow Writers, We Have The Power, We Have A Voice, We Have A Pen, Collectively, We’re Able To Help, Help The Children Of The World, Stop Them Crying For Help.”
Together We Can Help
Let us all help
It’s Time
Time to have a say
Voice your feelings
Tell your stories
Use your pen
Speak from your soul
Talk about their little feet
Feel their mammas heartbeat
Give your all
Walk tall
We need to help
Children is my prompt
Lets do the stomp
It’s your call
One and all
Don’t let the children crawl
Save them before they fall
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
For all the wrongfully incarcerated children around the world, what sort of humans have we become to allow such heart-wrenching home-wreaking, that will undoubtably cause permanent damage to the innocent children. “There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treat its children.” – Nelson Mandela.
When Do They Play
Our emotions are boiling on high
Lowly governments are hiding like spies
When do the children play
Where do their Moms and Dads stay
Why should we have to pray
This is not our humane way
Promised tomorrows should be theirs today
Please, when do the children play
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
For all the wrongfully incarcerated children around the world, what sort of humans have we become to allow such heart-wrenching home-wreaking, that will undoubtably cause permanent damage to the innocent children.
When Do They Play
Our emotions are boiling on high
Lowly governments are hiding like spies
When do the children play
Where do their Moms and Dads stay
Why should we have to pray
This is not our humane way
Promised tomorrows should be theirs today
Please, when do the children play
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
There’s not a lot more I can say about this classic song, “The Ship Song”, by Nick Cave, and a special video clip for you all to enjoy. The Ship Song Project – Sydney Opera House reinterprets Nick Cave’s iconic song. Performed by Neil Finn, Kev Carmody and The Australian Ballet, Sarah Blasko, John Bell, Angus and Julia Stone, Paul Kelly and Bangarra Dance Theatre, Teddy Tahu Rhodes and Opera Australia, Martha Wainwright, Katie Noonan and The Sydney Symphony, The Temper Trap, Daniel Johns and the Australian Chamber Orchestra.
–
Come sail your ships around me
And burn your bridges down
We make a little history, baby
Every time you come around
Come loose your dogs upon me
And let your hair hang down
You are a little mystery to me
Every time you come around
We talk about it all night long
We define our moral ground
But when I crawl into your arms
Everything comes tumbling down
Come sail your ships around me
And burn your bridges down
We make a little history, baby
Every time you come around
Your face has fallen sad now
For you know the time is nigh
When I must remove your wings
And you, you must try to fly
Come sail your ships around me
And burn your bridges down
We make a little history, baby
Every time you come around
Come loose your dogs upon me
And let your hair hang down
You are a little mystery to me
Every time you come around
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
This Weeks Photo Prompt is Heat-wave.
It was hard for me here in Geelong, we’re experiencing a winters cold spell and zero temperatures, so the closest I could get to a heat-wave was my stupid electric oven, with its faulty thermostat, and the oven just gets hotter and hotter, as the temperature setting doesn’t work at all, and everything in the oven gets burnt to a crisp, as the temperature keeps rising and rising !!
Below a hot heat-wave photo from years ago
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 