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
Saturday was a brilliant day
Last night the rain poured into Sunday
The heavy drops washed lustre away
A cold wind cut through my chest today
I’m reading the news from yesterday
The vulnerable children are still crying
Court deadlines are being ignored
Thousands of innocent hearts still torn
Pierced by government swords
Wielded from behind their closed doors
Hear the multitude’s pleading words
Listen to your conscience
See the children’s pain
Let their candles burn in the rain
A special thanks to Elle, for supplying the above quote by Margaret Mead, and to Sue for her guidance in setting up my “Voice to Text” app’
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
Do you see my mess
I do confess
I’m computerless
Do you know my address
I’m writing on slate
You’ll have to wait
My pigeon will be late
I’m using my old phone
Working fingers to the bone
Words are like stones
Without a home
Do you know the score
No music any more
I slam my studio door
Leaving pools of notes on the floor
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Weekly Prompts. Word Prompt. Advantage
When it’s so hard to get out of my warm bed
I force myself to throw the sheets off
And I face another day again
When the light doesn’t go on above my head
I replace the globe and flick the switch
And I see Again
When my shower hot water turns cold
I patiently wait for the boiler to reheat
And I shall be ready again
When the toaster burns my bread
I turn the grey dial down to three
And I restart again
When the kettle runs bone dry
I dutifully refill the jug
And enjoy a cuppa’ again
When breakfast is done and it’s time to run
I feel the advantage of being alive
And I smile at my world again
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 