A Warm and Wet Spring Day
Our ever-changing spring is here again.
We’ve been walking between affectionate raindrops,
dodging the refilling, familiar puddles,
and watching Mudlark’s waddle in the ponds
We’ve appreciated nature’s flirtatious ways
refreshing our frazzled faculties.
Ivor Steven © November 2025
Sunlit wanderers above the trees—wattlebirds in motion, igniting the sky with feathered sparks and poetic wonder.
Wings of the Sun (a Tanka)
They often ask why
I love to watch wattlebirds
Fly under the sun:
“their colourful plumes ignite
my eye’s imagination.”
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
Over at Weekly Prompts, the Colour Challenge for the Month is Grey. To visit their fabulous site, please click >> Here
Silhouettes in the Grey Sky
Like bright black opals
The Wattlebirds silhouettes
Adorned the grey sky
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
“On Halloween, the moon casts spells in silver.” — Ivorian folklore
Bright-eyed (a Haiku)
The Halloween moon
Bright-eyed in the twilight sky
No one saw you sigh
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.” ~ Robert Frost
Today’s Screenplay, or, Reggae and Crochet
Needing a manuscript breakaway
Talking with the crows at midday
Was a positive and relaxing way
To invigorate my book’s soporific survey
Wishing for a secretary or “Girl Friday”
Then I could sit back and replay
More “Bob Marley” reggae
Or even try my hand at crochet
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
The Mudlark and the Seagull (a Tanka)
The black and white lark
Said to the whitish seagull
“Gloomy skies today
and clouds are hiding our plumes
from the photographer’s eyes”
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
Dear friends and fellow poetry lovers,
As midnight continues to be my muse, I wanted to share that my blogging rhythm will be slowing for a few weeks. I’m currently immersed in shaping my fourth poetry manuscript, Time Hears No Sound—a project close to my heart.
During this time, my posts may be fewer and more sporadic, but rest assured, I’m still listening, dreaming, and crafting behind the scenes. Thank you for your continued support, patience, and presence. I look forward to returning with new verses and reflections once this chapter is complete.
Warmly, Ivor
“A quiet reflection on wisdom, war, and the river’s patient memory—where even crows seem to carry questions.”
River of Dreams
I’ve been listening to the crows-
the smart ones, who should know.
Now I’m watching the ancient river flow
around the land’s long, sandy bend.
Do they know where, and when
the current’s undertow
comes to a becalmed end?
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
“Beliefs are what divide people. Doubt unites them.” ~ Peter Ustinov
In a World of Doubt
To the left of where I sit,
I see a bright red strip
flash across the night sky.
In disbelief, I rub my weary eyes.
I do not panic, or feel fear,
as my vision slowly becomes clear.
I perceive my angel’s lake of tears
has entered my atmosphere.
Awakened, I valiantly swim out,
and try to save my world of doubt.
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
Recently, the theme of most of my poems has been nature and our treatment of the environment. Today’s Throwback Friday poem, written in October 2019, was also a reflective poem about nature.
Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former. … Albert Einstein
Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty. … Albert Einstein
Blue Plastic Tripe
The sun’s filtered warmth
Opens my notebook
And a red wine
Enhances the imagination nook
This Cafe’s quietly humming
Enticing my visions into reality
As my heart beats out a rhyme
Listening to melodic rhythms
And I sing to myself, a worldly question
Do we have the character —
to repair our transgressions?
A forest symphony’s chiming,
“All my leaves are brown.”
Touching a sensitive soul, one more time
Forcing my dancing feet down to the coastline
Where I hear Mother Earth, singing the blues
And sad mermaids are playing harps in tune,
to the ancient whales, deep moaning sounds
” The ocean now covers me, in plastic tripe”
Are we hearing the lullaby of his final night?
.
Until Eyes Hear Sound
Lulu Books >> Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)
Perceptions:
Amazon >> Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >> Perceptions (lulu.com)
Tullawalla:
Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books
OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com … and I can send you a PayPal account,
for the Book, plus Postage.
Ivor Steven © October 2025
“Even in the middle of nowhere, wings remember their purpose.” —A reflection on leadership, illusion, and the quiet strength of flight.
A King Without Wings (a Tanka)
In the pilot’s chair
I see warning lights out there
In the deep, dark air
Suspended in nowhere’s grip
Who knew — the King had wings, too?
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 