I hear the wind whistling in the trees
Rustic sounds of rustling leaves
Swirling down through the branches
Prancing colourful dancers
Faery’s of the forest floor
Mother nature’s spiritual encores
I hear the wind applause for more
Seasonal breezes carrying pollen spores
Germinating ancient lands over the eons
Eden’s garden of blossom and vines
Serving our tables full of apples and wines
I hear the wind whispering memories and rhymes
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
welcome to our home
the house of rustic timber and stone
home is where my heart is now
and now I live here alone
but I’m cosy and comfortable
wearing the same old shoes
talking and walking her every mile
she’s in every covering stone
she’s in the marrow of my bones
we share the air I breathe
inhaling her gracious spirit
capturing her living essence
absorbing her love into my blood
flowing through my pumping veins
cascading upon my open heart
caressing my solitary core
embracing our glorious souls as one
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
The sun is shining, the day is grand, I found our Anniversary band, made of pure silver, here in my hand, I’ll mount it on a stand, like the day she placed the gift in my hand, hand in hand we still stand, our feet sharing the warm sands, yes my memories are grand, so let’s strike up the band.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Three decades I cared for her
My loving wife
Tending to her sorrowful erosions
We sailed many stormy Seas together
Crashing waves upon crushing waves
She was battered
I was torn
Miraculously we survived
Our wounded hearts grew closer
I admired her courage and grace
I worshipped her unabated love
Then her finality occurred
Our souls have never parted
Entwined, the same as when we started
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
I eat, I drink, I sleep
I casually dream of yesterday’s
I Shamefully wonder about tomorrow’s
I’m walking along my sunny street
I’m alive and free as a bird
But I’m anxiously emotional about tomorrow
Will the children wake-up without crying
Will the children see sunlight today
Will the children be with their parents tomorrow
Where are the mindless sleeping
Where are their consciences today
Where are their lies going tomorrow
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Do you see above the horizon
A bright white winter moon
Silhouetted against the afternoon sky
Do you see my vision
A dark blue dusk, like a cloudless spoon
Cupping my angels ivory chalice ahigh
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
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
There was a raging storm last night, I struggled to sleep, I was in and out of my dreams, and during my semi-conscious times, I jotted down these lines.
I remember the day
Like it was yesterday
A cold morning, ten o’clock
I, a shadow in the paddock
Standing beside a giant pylon
I looked up to heaven
Straight up the tower
The tower of power
Crosses of galvanized iron
Shiny under the winter sun
Wind whistling through its huge steel web
Howling like hades walking dead
And demons screaming in my head
My spirit begun climbing the spire
Clambering higher and higher
Up the pyramid of life’s wires
Desperate, I grasp at my ultimate desire
A visionary mission before I die
To embrace a piece of my angels sky
To the amazing Leonard Cohen, I thank you for being the inspiration behind my writings, over and over your words and songs have soothed the depths of my soul, and again you’ve caressed my heart during my times of sorrow, bless you, up there in your tower of song.
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
FIFTY YEARS AGO — WE SANG THIS SONG
“I See The Universe In A Blade Of Grass” **
I’m exhausted
And wearing paper-thin
I’ve been crying too often
My salty tears
Have dried my skin
Cracked the corners of my eyes
And etched my chin
My retina’s are burning
X-rays through hedges
My troubled bridge is worn
I cannot see the dawn
I sit alone and stare
At this daily glare
From the children over there
Innocent eyes looking sad and bare
Desperate for care
Gasping for free air
** These words are taken from a line in Sean Rowe’s song, The Lonely Maze, 2012.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 