The Snail and the Butterfly
Midmorning; the day is breathing,
and Steve the snail is cruising.
I espy where he has been,
and I innately know who he wants to see.
Betty, the pretty butterfly,
is fluttering down from the trees.
A rendezvous with Steve is nigh.
Like Sigur Rós, breathing life into a quiet town, Steve and Betty meet in the stillness of morning.
Ivor Steven (c) December 2025
A wintry first of December—where summer forgets itself beneath cloud and quiet flight.
Summer Forgotten
December ‘one’ has forgotten to remember
that it is the first day of summer.
Nature’s clandestine cloud-lover
has eloped with the sun’s warm river.
There shall be no supernova today;
even the hardy magpie has run away.
Ivor Steven (c) December 1st 2025
Hello, dear readers and followers. I write for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) fortnightly, and my poem “Climbing the Stairs” is in this week’s edition.
To read the poem, please click the link below to visit my Coffee House Writers Magazine article.
>>https://coffeehousewriters.com/climbing-the-stairs/
.
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 © December 2025
“The soul has illusions as the bird has wings.” — Victor Hugo
“One Day,” when I photographed a wedge-tailed eagle gliding across a clear Victorian sky. Its silhouette stirred something ancient — a whisper of myth, a search for meaning.
This ‘Telestitch’ poem was written in response to Coffee House Writers’ monthly poetry assignment, and for the Weekly Prompts “One Day” Monthly Challenge. To visit their fabulous site, click >> Here
Eagle (a Telestitch)
The wistful wedge-tailed eagle,
Soars toward the mystical Southern Aurora,
Searching for the anomaly’s hidden beginning,
Hoping to find the missing Holy Grail.
All the horizon’s dreams dissolve into the sky’s finale.
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in July 2023) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It opens Chapter 4, The Universe: Infinity Times Infinity
Misplaced in Space
there is inner space
and there is outer space
I like to travel in both places
life is not race
my database
is my bookcase
I am yet to embrace
the coalface
face to face
and this human race
has misplaced
the meaning of grace
and lost the paper chase
to the corporate greed of cyberspace
tonight, I’m flying down to inner-space
aboard my “Itmims” spacecraft
to find a redeemable place
inside humanities headspace
Itmims: Ivor’s Time Machine In Micro Space
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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 © November 2025
Clouds became a stage today—birds in flight performing their aerial pantomime
An Aerial Pantomime
The big black crows,
come and go as they please,
lancing through the low clouds,
like stingrays in a sandy sea.
Pretty wattlebirds are swift,
flashy, and never shy,
flaunting their showy plumes
among the naked grey clouds.
And the day’s aerial pantomime
Would not be complete
without a black-and-white minstrel show
from the troop’s majestic magpie.
“The skies sang today; this video is their chorus.”
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
The Meadow and the Red Rose
There’s a golden hush where field mustard sways,
spring’s quiet rebellion against the grey.
White butterflies flutter over the yellow meadow,
spreading pollen and love like a dissipating rainbow.
Morning glory unfurls a mauve lawn —
brief as breath, bold as dawn.
In time, the shepherd’s clock closes gently,
whenever the weather bells chime hourly.
Meanwhile, my front garden’s red rose sentinel
Stoically stands guard over my daily spectacle.
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
A big thank you to Latinos USA and Editor Nolcha Fox for promoting my book at “Poetry Bookshelf”
>> https://latinosenglishedition.wordpress.com/2025/11/24/featuring-until-eyes-hear-sound-by-ivor-steven/
Published by
crazy4yarn2
on
24 de noviembre de 2025
The title “Until Eyes Hear Sound” can have different meanings depending on your interpretation. It could be a poetic expression, a metaphor for waiting for something to happen, or a state of deep concentration where one is so focused on one’s inner vision that one becomes oblivious to external sounds. Ivor’s poems do not suggest having the answers, but his words encourage you to think about our environment, as he ponders the purpose of our existence in the universe. If you love poetry that challenges, inspires, and moves you, this book is for you.
According to the author
The cover design, by Kerri Costello, reflects my perceptions of the world that surrounds me. When you look closely at the reflection of the Island in the water, with a bit of imagination, the image appears to be of a guitar.
The book is divided into 10 diverse and imaginative chapters, each accompanied by a creative drawing by Kerri. Themes range from nature and existence, to war and peace, to humour, fantasy, and short forms such as haiku and tanka.
To purchase
Signed copies available. Order directly via email: ivorrs20@gmail.com (PayPal arrangements can be made)
Author bio
Ivor Steven was formerly an industrial chemist, then a plumber, and is now retired. He has numerous poems published in anthologies and online magazines. He has three self-published books: Tullawalla, Perceptions, and Until Eyes Hear Sound. He is an active member of Geelong Writers Inc. (Australia) and an appointed writer for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA).
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
Featured Image Above: Springtime in retreat—wings scatter beneath a dismal sky, and midday wears an unnatural hush. Today’s weather speaks in riddles and ice, echoing the questions we dare to ask: Is our dome becoming incompatible?
Incompatible
Among the bushes, we anxiously fly,
Sheltering from the world’s sinister sky.
The dismal clouds are in a miserable mood,
And full of destructive ice-cubes.
An unnatural darkness has befallen midday —
Who has stolen our springtime clearway?
Is climate change responsible?
Is our doomed dome liable
to become globally incompatible?
Let this song carry the weight of today’s sky—an echo of wings, words, and warnings we cannot ignore.
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
Featured Image Above: Mid-flight and mildly wrecked—this tiny bird attempts its final rescue, beneath a deep blue sky.”
From dizzy heights to grounded mornings—last night’s revelry left me chasing feathers in the wind. Here’s a tiny bird (Welcome Swallow), a deep blue sky, and a poem that remembers too much red wine.
Over at Weekly Prompts, the Weekend Challenge is the word ‘Excessive’. You can visit their fabulous site by clicking >> Here.
In my poem, I wrote about having an “Excessive” amount of ‘red wine’ at the Event last night …
A Tiny Bird in a Deep Blue Sky
Too many late nights,
Too much red wine.
I consumed too many savoury bites —
Throw me a rescue line
That’s not made of grapevines.
My eyes look like Christmas lights;
I’m getting too old for these dizzy heights.
Oh well, I’ve plenty of time to recover —
Until next week’s Writers party hangover.
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 