Over at Weekly Prompts, the Wednesday Challenge is: Sunset … you may visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> Here. My poem is about “Twilight”, just after Sunset.
Hello, dear readers and followers, as you might know, I stopped producing my “Tullawalla Booklets” at # 31, because that was the house number of our family’s Tullawalla Homestead. But the booklet formats are a superb way for me to catalogue the vast number of poems I produce and as the saying goes “I Am Turning Another Page”. Here I have begun a new series of poem booklets, called “Shangri La” which is the name of my little Villa, and is my piece of “earthly paradise, a retreat from the pressures of modern civilization”. Incredibly, I now have “1711” Poems filed in these booklet formats!! (on my bookshelf I have “The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, which contains 1775 poems … when I first started writing poems, I never envisaged that I would produce so many poems … )
Click on >> Here. for the link to your FREE: PDF Copy of “Shangri La, Volume 8, Beyond Flawed Paws
Beyond Flawed Paws
We are flying north before winter I am on the edge of the flock The outside feather of the throng Away from the main group. But close enough To sense that I belong
Even with my tired and aging wings The congregation allows me to tag along And they caringly bunch together Sheltering me when the wind is strong
We are a humble and united colony Paternally migrating in perfect harmony As part of nature’s cycle of eternity
We soar above the flawed paws Of the world’s sparring humanity And beyond those sharp claws Of their tragic and panicky community
At my poetry books stall, and just up from me, the Piano Girl played.
“Creative Occupation” was at Creative Geelong, MAY’D Arts Festival
I looked for the Promoter, the Poet, the Printer, and the Publisher… I followed the red arrows, and I was there … “We so look forward to making poetry with you”.
“Hello Ivor” Wow, she knows my name “Stand on the special black spot and I’ll type a poem for you”
.
I stand on the special black spots
Then from her old yellow typewriter Words magically curled Off the antique roller And when she finished She handed me the paper tape “A poem for you”
My hand-typed poem by Ingrid
“Hi dear, how do you know me and what is your name” “I’m Ingrid, and I read your poems on the Creative Geelong Instagram site and I love your writings”
The printing process
“Thank you for your kindness, Ingrid, and you have made my amazing day here at the Festival even betterer!”
The published poems suspended above the Festival crowd
Today, my Throwback Friday poem was written on December 4th, 2020
Every Ordinary Day
If you look up There is air and sky If you look backward There goes the sunset If you look forward Here comes sunrise If you look sideways There shines the fullness of the day
Look and you will feel Nature sharing her love Look and you will hear Her crescendo of life’s adrenaline
I’ll be at the May’d Festival, at “IVOR’S Poetry Books” stall, selling my poetry books, look my for Sign …
This is a two-day festival by @creativegeelong in partnership with the Melbourne Art Book Fair. The Centrepoint Arcade in Geelong has become a vibrant hub of art, workshops, live performances, and creative stallholders selling art, books, clothing, and craft.
Creative Geelong Hub Centrepoint Arcade 132 Little Malop St Geelong VIC
Friday 31st May 5pm-9pm Saturday 1st June 11am-3pm
I live in a small compact villa My abode is comfortable and cozy The bedroom doubles up As my writer’s studio and library
The wardrobe’s doors are near the end of my bed On the doors, I hang a calendar And a special photo of me and Carole We had taken for our 25th anniversary
I gaze at the calendar and ponder The appointments are in black Important dates are marked in red And my poetry events are scribbled in blue
The calendar has many blank squares They are the days I spend writing I Write to Her, about love and coping I write for myself, about life and nature
I write for everyone who reads my poems I write my thoughts about humanity’s existence within the universe and the great beyond I write words, “Until Eyes Hear Sound”
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 