A Tanka – Ivor.Plumber/Poet

The Full Moon and the Corellas (a Tanka)

Please note: All the images are mine and then sharpened and enhanced by Copilot.

Under the full moon’s watch, the Corellas turn the late afternoon sky into a jubilant parade.

The Full Moon and the Corellas (a Tanka)

I hear them squawking
As they fly through my blue sky
Those white Corellas
May look very elegant
But they sound like elephants

As a small tribute to Glen Hansard, whose music has long travelled beside me — a voice that rose and broke like birds in the late‑afternoon sky — here is his unforgettable performance of Bird of Sorrow.

Ivor Steven © August 2026

Brighter Than White (a Tanka)

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’s Chromatic Storm (a Tanka)

Last night’s twilight carried a strange chromatic weight — colours deepening, clouds gathering, the horizon holding its breath. And on this cold winter evening, that same wintry mood returned and shaped the Tanka below

Twilight’s Chromatic Storm
(a Tanka)

Dark Ominous clouds
Growl along the horizon
Then suddenly howl
Over trees and open fields
Dumping sharp, icy black pearls

And in the fading light, as twilight settles, the storm’s voice drifts into song.

Ivor Steven © July 2026

The Moon and the Wattlebird (a Tanka)

In the soft morning blue, the half‑moon lingers as a gentle witness, watching the wattlebird rise into its own wide freedom.

The Moon and the Wattlebird (a Tanka)

Even the half moon
Selflessly watches you fly
Toward the deep sky
There, within your winged freedom
You will never be alone

Under the half‑moon’s gentle watch, wherever the flight leads, every journey carries a presence that walks beside it.

Ivor Steven © June 2026

Nature’s Iris (a Tanka)

As the sky softened into twilight, the colours opened my poetic picture book, and Ben Howard’s “Old Pine” drifted through the moment with the same quiet warmth.

The Weekend Challenge on Weekly Prompts is the word “Hell.” To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here … my Tanka today is a long way up beyond “Hell.”

Nature’s Iris (a Tanka)

A crimson twilight
And a seductive sunset
Is nature’s iris
Unfolding my picture book
Where my quiet poems rest

Ivor Steven © May 2026

Drowning in Blue (a Tanka)

“Some days the clear sky feels heavier than the clouds we can’t see. Today, the blue above me felt deeper than it looked.”

Drowning in Blue (a Tanka)

Exhaustipated
And discombobulated
Or maybe just tired
Of feeling like I’m drowning
In this endless wash of blue.

A song that drifts in the same blue.

Ivor Steven © May 2026

A Sky High Spider (a Tanka)

A sky‑hung spider paused above me, its long legs offering the day’s small surprise.

A Sky High Spider (a Tanka)

High above the ground
The spider hangs from a leaf
By a single thread,
Skillfully, without a net —
Nature’s six-legged trapezist.

A touch of quiet strength to mirror the spider’s patient art.

Staring Back At Me (a Tanka)

Feature Image Above: was created by Copilot and me.

Stepping outside, I find the night moon is still following me.

Staring Back At Me (a Tanka)

It’s after midnight
I’m out, beyond the front door
The night is cloudy
But I can still see the moon
There, watching my every move

And the moon kept following me as if the night wasn’t done with me yet

Lucky Man: an Evening Surprise (a Tanka)

A quiet moment at dusk, evening settling softly around me, unaware the sky hosted its own surprise to share.

Lucky Man: an Evening Surprise (a Tanka)

There I stood waiting
for the wattlebird to fly
out of his gum tree.
Quickly, I snapped a photo —
surprise … do you see it too?”

Sometimes you’re just lucky enough to be standing in the right place at the right time.

Not Good, But I’m Ok (a Tanka)

On this Good Friday morning, a lone bird drifts beneath the sun — a small, steady shape moving through a world that still carries its wounds. Watching it, I felt the familiar pull of memory, the long years of care, love, and quiet endurance that shaped my life. This Tanka rose from that moment, from that tear in the sky, and the music below holds the same fragile ache — a home built from devotion, loss, and the tenderness that remains.

Not Good, But I’m Ok (a Tanka)

I fly beneath you
On this Good Friday morning,
And I spy a tear
In the corner of your eye —
Is our World a sinful stye?