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Good morning readers( it’s morning somewhere), this is a piece I’ve not posted before, I wrote it 15 years ago, I’m leaving the poem in the original tense of when the words were written. the poem’s about Carole’s incredible nurses and carers who attended our house every day. I hope you enjoy the  rawness of this early poem of mine.

 

Her Nightingales

 

The nightingales enter, our house feels raided

Unnerving every-time, our personal privacy invaded

Nightingales come and go, to and fro

A shuffling flock, some we don’t know

 

Drifting throughout our house, her nursing home

Tending to her endless needs, she’s never to be alone

Nightingales come and go, to and fro

They’ve showered her and they’ve been, today and tomorrow

 

Occupying our precious space, angels fluttering around

From the front door, to the back door, from silence to sound

Nightingales come and go, to an fro

They’ve fed her and they’ve seen, today and tomorrow

 

Permeating the air with chatter, brushing her red plume

Bedding her down, and leaving her lonely room

Nightingales come and go, to and fro

Comforting her and they’re between, today and tomorrow

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Time

Oh, time and time again

we wish for time to slow down

preserve our time’s in the sun and rain

and under stars, where lover’s caresses are crowned

Tree

The ancient tree of life, scatter your peace

Please sow and share every growing piece

Why

“Don’t Ask Me Why”

‘Cause I don’t know why,

there’s red and blue sky

How,

Do bats fly

Pigs eat in a sty

And politicians lie

Dark

We all have a dark side

Like the moon’s other-side

There to be explored

Or left behind on the blackboard

Vultures

Alive or half dead, we’re the prey of vultures

Poised like loaded guns in a holster

Waiting to strike the poor and innocent

And even the unwilling ignorant

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

I’m pedalling my silver bike, called Yorkie

Pedalling slow and steady, out near my bar-bie

I’m not actually moving

But I am dreaming

Thinking of places I could be

Visualising what I might see

If I can keep pushing

I’ll end up with a Qantas cushion

I know the year is new and early

But I’m feeling unfit and unworldly

There’s a long way, for my body to go

There’s no turning back, despite the undertow

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Shame

There is shame

There is blame

That we need to tame

To love our own name

Day And Night

There’s dark, then light

Like there’s day and night

Sunrise and sunset

Like there’s life and regrets

Life ebbs and flows

Life comes and goes

There’s reality, then dreams

Life’s mixture of honey and cream

Sticky and sweet

Like every heart-beat

Sometimes

Sometimes I’ve very little

Left in me to deal

Sometimes having very little

Of me, is very real

Sometimes we need a little boost

To be able to heal

Sometimes your words are enough

For me to see and feel

Here And There

Looking up at night-sky everywhere

I imagine being lost in here and there

Picking blue stars for us to wear

A Kiss

“I promise, your kiss I won’t fight”

I shall silently listen tonight

And dream of your delight

A blissful kiss, soft and light

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

I’m digging a tunnel

With my ball and chain

Underneath the great wall

Towards the east side of the moon

Away from these wasted days

Beyond the drain of pain

My eyes search for a light

Through my grotto’s ceiling crack

Resolutely my heart yells at me

“There’s no turning back”

Fingers are bloodied

Toes are blistered

My throat is parched

Lips are sweat covered with dirt

I’m desperate for the evening rain

And a cooling breeze

Fresh upon my old crusty skin

I’m to meet a mystic Arab

Cloaked in cloth of indigo blue

He’s been sent by Muhammad to save me

Burst me free, and find my lost kin