Beneath this heavy sundown, the cracks in our modern bravado show themselves — in the sky, in the poem, and in the song that shadows them both.
The Heavy Sound of Sundown
I feel the heavy copper sundown
shake the dry, crusty ground
of this dirty old town.
I hear an orange clown,
slyly searching around
for a silent sound
that is not profound.
I see the world’s wedding gown
being torn and drowned,
as the desert honeymoon
remains uncrowned and hellbound.
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Featured Image Above: A veiled moon, a steady pulse — answering Susi’s quiet reflection.’
Thank you to Susi; her article, “Calm”, inspired my Senryu >> Calm – I Write Her
Calico Curtains
(a Senryu)
When the lights are dim
Behind life’s silent curtain
The show carries on
‘Behind the silent curtain, the world still trembles — Cohen answers where my haiku whispers.’
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Feature Image Above: Where the fading light lingers, twilight gathers its colours and whispers the day to rest.
Twilight’s Echoing Hues
I’m lazily ambling alone,
within nature’s hazy twilight zone,
when the golden summer sun
slowly sinks below the burnt horizon.
Above, in the evening’s linen sky,
I see ribbons of azure and flaxen;
shimmer and linger longer,
way beyond;
daylight’s theatrical goodbye.
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Some mornings begin in silence, before memory fully wakes, and the hush before daylight becomes a bridge between darkness and light
And, For Sadje’s #Whatdoyousee #331 – 9 March 2026 – My ‘Poem’ closely represented Sadje’s first Image.
To visit Sadje’s fabulous site, please click >> Here
Where It All Began
It was only six-twenty.
I could not remember
how my bowl became empty.
What is this strange condition?
Then I shifted the position
of my inner opposition
by refining the leftover light
from within the dark of night –
when silence suspends time –
into the musical sounds of rhyme.
Am I too late to catch the worm,
or beyond time’s sonic boom?
Is there still more to learn?
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Some plants arrive with more spirit than we expect, and Theo was one of them. He pushed up far too early, braved the winter cold, and grew into a bold, towering presence in my garden — a true Romeo among the flowers. His season was brief but wholehearted, rising from a tiny seedling to a generous summer giant before gently returning to the earth.
The photos below trace his small but memorable journey, followed by a poem and a quiet Damien Rice song that felt just right for his farewell.
Theo is transplanted from the gravel path into my large planter box. (early June)
When I came back from my trip to Canada, on September 23rd, Theo was indeed looking very sick, and we thought he mightn’t survive …
But during the spring weather of October and November, Theo did thrive …
With flowers and fruit by the end of December …
Yes, Frankie, we spotted red tomatoes in early January …
Early March, and Theo’s crop of fruit has not been large, mainly due to his premature birth and my 4-week absence in Canada, but we are very proud of Theo’s effort to be one of nature’s providers …
Theo, My Garden’s Romeo
From little things, big things grow –
a tiny seedling in the snow.
So brazen and bold,
he survived the winter cold
A time-defying green tower,
with serendipitous spring flowers
and summer fruit for my garden dell –
Theo’s life was wildly swell.
Then, prematurely – like his birth –
his wilted girth
slowly began to return to the earth
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Over at Weekly Prompts, the Colour Challenge for March is Yellow. To visit their fabulous site, please click >> Here.
My Courtyard’s Sunflowers
The sunflowers sway and say hello
Always happy and politely mellow
And never ever bellow
Like that orange badfellow
They are my garden’s yellow-cello’s
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Featured Image Above: A bleak sky, fleeing wings, and a world on edge—echoed in the voice of “Iron Sky.”
A thank you to Derrick for inspiring the theme of this poem, even though I didn’t use his photo this time. His article nudged me to write.
>> Confusion About The Month – derrickjknight
Gulls Over Dover
The sky turns a hessian dull
as our silly world spins towards
another war zone cull.
The frightened gulls
of Dover flee north to Hull,
too wary of looking backwards,
haunted by humanity’s disparities
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Featured Image by Julius H. from Pixabay (From Eugi’s Prompt Site)
Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in June 2025) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as the second poem in the Epigram section of Chapter 10, Time’s Short Poems: Haiku, Tanka, etc.
Throwing back to a poem that reminded me how even small things, like snowflakes, can ease old heartaches.
Cascading Snowflakes (an Epigram)
With every breath we take
After our weary eyes awake
The existence of daybreak
Appeases our heartaches
As cascading, soft snowflakes
Gently flow over our old keepsakes
.
Until Eyes Hear Sound
Amazon >> Amazon.com : Until Eyes Hear Sound
Lulu Books >> Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)
Perceptions:
Amazon >> Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >> Perceptions (lulu.com)
Tullawalla:
Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books
OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com … and I can send you a PayPal account,
for the Book, plus Postage.
Ivor Steven © March 2026
In the hush of a calm bay, the moon lifts above the palms as if ready to whisper its small truth to the night.
Full Moon Rising
There is a hush in the air
Below the full moon’s stare
Silence is golden
Eveningtide unfolding
The bay is dead calm
As the moon glares
Through Rippleside’s palms
“Why look at me
I’m only a tiny spirit
in the universe’s eternal sea.“
“Scan beyond your sandy quay
to find your celestial key.”
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Featured Image Above: Created by Copilot and me.
Where the day opens its wings to truth
Nature’s Honest Sky (a Tanka)
Why retire your wings
When you’re still able to fly
Through the soft white clouds
There in nature’s azure sky
Where the air always feels true
Let this song drift beneath the wings of the poem — a soft score for nature’s honest sky.’
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 