Even far from the shoreline, the inland breeze carries more than wings — the sky still remembers where the journey began.
Drifting Inland (a Haiku)
Four coastal seagulls
Drifting on the inland breeze
Miles away from home
Some journeys begin with a single gust of wind.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
Twilight has a way of softening the edges of the day. In that fading light, time feels loose in the hands, slipping grain by grain. Dark Grains of Sand follows that quiet fall into evening.
Dark Grains of Sand
As the sun sinks
beyond the land,
the horizon’s sky swirls
like tanned quicksand.
As the night begins to melt
into tawny strands,
twilight unfurls across
the wandering bard’s grandstand.
As the grains of time
drift through his hands
the encroaching darkness
remains unmanned and unplanned.
Bob Dylan’s “Every Grain of Sand” drifts through the same twilight hush — a perfect echo for this piece.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
There are moments in the afternoon when the sky invites us to sense more than we see — when a pale moon lingers above our familiar fixtures and asks us to listen with our eyes.
Perhaps, One Day, we’ll pause long enough to notice our daytime luminary’s quiet offerings.
Over at Weekly Prompts, it’s time for the “One Day Prompt.” To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here
The Moon’s Daytime Matinee
Mid-afternoon,
and the half moon
is lingering
in the middle of the sky,
glowing like a luminary’s lantern.
There for everyone
to listen with their tired eyes
and peruse the moon’s
visionary daytime matinee.
Perhaps,
at the same moment,
the audience will absorb
the extra light waves
from the ancient orb’s
timeless wisdom.
And as the afternoon drifts on, the moon leaves its quiet note behind, a reminder that even in daylight, wonder still finds a way to shine.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
In the soft drift between yesterday’s echo and tomorrow’s hush, I found myself pausing — watching a magpie unwind in the morning light, and hearing a song carry the same quiet truth. Some moments ask nothing of us but to breathe, to notice, to be held gently in the turning of time
Unwinding (a Senryu)
Living for today
Remembering yesterday
Minding tomorrow
And in this song’s wind‑worn footsteps, my little senryu finds its own way forward.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
Today’s Throwback Friday arrives wrapped in rain. Frankie and I stepped out into a cold, wet Geelong evening, and the sky was heavy, brooding, ready to break. It seemed the right moment to revisit a poem from June 2021 — a piece written during another season of quiet storms and overflowing emotion.
Raining Oceans of Tears (Revised)
They can send a machine to Mars,
but cannot repair a blade of grass
in nature’s backyard.
And billions of tears spill into the oceans,
creating a soft-surging swell of love
gradually rolling in from a blue horizon.
Is this the beginning
of the next great flood from above?
The words that are left unsaid
cannot be misread
Without being misread — sometimes the only answer is to let the rain keep falling.
.
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 © July 2026
A quiet morning sky, brushed with soft colour and held in the silhouettes of reaching trees. A few drifting lines followed me home from my walk, settling into a poem shaped by that calm, glassy light.
The Sky Catcher
The blue-stone sky
is not about to cry,
nor do I hear the wind sigh.
Nature’s clouds tell no lie.
High,
above the planet’s bonsai,
I see the sun’s glassy eye
solemnly decry
time neither says hi
nor goodbye.
A morning sky caught in stillness, and a song that drifts softly in its wake.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
Resting was originally written in July 2024, and the photos that follow are little scenes from my world — the moments that helped me understand what resting truly means.
For this month’s Dome Poets assignment, we were each handed a Robert Okaji chapbook to spark a new poem. Mine was From Every Moment A Second, a book of luminous fragments that has long kept me company on the shelf.
To visit Robert’s wonderful poetry site, click on this link
>> O at the Edges | Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Resting (Revised, with lines from Robert Okaji’s book, “From Every Moment A Second”)
Stanza Map
1 — Robert’s Take Away, p.3
2 — Ivor’s Resting
3 — Robert’s Bottom Falling, p.5
4 — Ivor’s Resting (with Okaji’s line)
5 — Robert’s Privilege, p.13
6 — Ivor’s Resting
7 — Robert’s Flame, p.15
Take away the blackness,
what does night become?
Why rest?
Dawn is here again,
another new day
for my persistent pen.
Through the window
I see another bird
rising, unlabelled, unwanted, yet noticed.
Why Rest?
From every moment,
a second emerges.**
Time has no opponent.
Every hour becomes another.
Surrendering minutes, accepting
gain, which gravities restrain us?
But we open the door
and step out, unhindered.
Why rest?
The Age of Aquarius
has been and gone
and the end of beyond
is no longer precarious.
Drifting, she passes through the frame.
Reshapes borders, edges.
Picture a man lighting a candle
where a home once stood.
To close, here’s a song that carries the same quiet breath as the poem — a final touch of calm before you wander on.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
Hello, dear readers and followers. I contribute to Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) every second week, and I’m delighted to share that my latest poem, “Uluru, Kakadu, Kathmandu, and Xanadu,” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below.
>> Uluru, Kakadu, Kathmandu, and Xanadu – Coffee House Writers
The journey begins — a lone bird rising through the misty avenue.
.
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 © July 2026
Above the treeline, the day began with wings drifting toward the light.
Brighter Than White (a Tanka)
Quickly, follow me
Through the silhouetted clouds
I hear the wise crow
Has found a hole in the sky
Where the light’s brighter than white
The sky keeps its openings, and somewhere beyond the clouds, the light still waits, brighter than white.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
Twilight lifts its veil, a little pothole in the sky beginning to glow — and below it, this old July Birthday magpie rises, still not done with the day, or the many more days waiting beyond the horizon.
Goodnight, But Not Goodbye
The twilight clouds are alight,
Mother Nature’s waving goodnight.
Levitating above the linen horizon’s misty eye,
I see my pothole flickering in the sky.
But I know daytime is still my ally,
and this old July magpie
isn’t done yet — so loosen your black ties.
I’m cruising around on standby,
and my celestial star will send me a lullaby
when the moment is right to say goodbye.
And as the magpie rises — somehow above it all, that little pothole in the sky keeps glowing.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 