Redefining My Lines




Redefining My Lines



I was a brittle piece of old oak
After suffering my three strokes
Which had left me in a dim coal mine
Where I was a fish out of water
Left hanging on the line
To shudder and totter

Recovery was a gradual incline
That felt like a slippery alpine
But I kept on thinking
Everything would be fine
If I never stopped dreaming
Of redefining myself, on cloud nine

In my adaptable mind
I have thrown myself a new lifeline
Via a bundle of woolly Canadian twine
And it is now my time
To enjoy a new bed of roses and wine






Ivor Steven (c) June 2025

Throwback Friday, Floating on the Moon

Today’s Throwback Friday was written in January 2021



Hello readers and followers, today, I am continuing with my theme of “Moom” poems. If you need to chat with me, “I am up here floating on the moon.





Floating On The Moon

I am not always wrong
And at times, I may have been right
Behind my mask, I smile
And at times, I grimace

Numbness has entered my bones
Clumsiness guides my pen
Awkwardness precedes my stride
Uneasiness resonates in my voice

I am not able to walk on water
And at times, I have sunk like a stone
I live within my soul’s cocoon
And at times, I am floating on the moon






Ivor Steven (c) June 2025

Winter Companions for ‘Theo’

I’ve been having computer problems lately, and I’m frustrated with Microsoft’s “Error” shutdowns.
So, I decided to spend the day in my courtyard garden. I had already purchased two plants to pot in my empty hanging baskets: a Fuchsia Hybrid (“Flash” with a magenta and red flower) and a Phlox Subulata (‘ McDaniels Cushion’ with a pink flower).
Firstly, I had to install a beam from which the baskets could hang! Anyhow, without going into too much detail, four hours later the task was completed.
The main purpose of my project is to provide ‘Theo’ with some colourful companions over his arduous winter journey.


‘Theo’, bottom, left of centre, looking up at the two hanging baskets.


This evening’s photos of the Fuchsia (“Francis”), Phlox Subulata (“Daniel”), and “Theo”





Ivor Steven (c) June 2025

Dry Eyes (a Micro Poem)


Eugi’s Poem (Prompt)

lingering scents
from nature’s vases
June celebration

Moonwashed Musings Weekly Prompt >> Let one or more words in my poem be your inspiration. >>https://amanpan.com/2025/06/17/moonwashed-weekly-prompt-june-17-2025-happy-birthday-to-me




Dry Eyes (a Micro Poem)



The enthusiastic blackbirds
Faithfully re-enact
Their daily rain dance
However, nature’s lingering clouds
Have forgotten how to cry







Ivor Steven (c) June 2025

My Dark Apparition





My Dark Apparition


I saw a mellow sun
Melt into a grey sky
I saw a shallow moon
Fall under a dark curtain
I sliced the sickly atmosphere
With the Reaper’s shadowy sickle

I heard a little wattlebird
Tip-toeing through the broken trees
I listened to a killer whale
Crawling along a black, oily beach
I felt the stained seashells
Squelch into my murky footprints

I was dozing on a bed of tanbark
And after my brown eyes opened
I wondered. Was I having a nightmare
Or was my dark apparition real?







Ivor Steven (c) June 2025

Do Snails Have Toes?

Frosty meadows under the early morning moon


I am always thinking of the many seasons that have been, and those that are gone … Presently, I am thinking of the winter season ahead for ‘Theo the Tomato Tree’


Do Snails Have Toes?



Autumn recedes
nestles down
below the ground’s
leafy gown

Winter howls at the door
uninvited
frost clings to the chrome
toes cringe on the cold floor

Bed-sheets creak and groan
alone, I moan
icy teardrops
and salty snowflakes
do not stop

Spring waits
under the powdery snow
and I wonder
do snails have toes?






Ivor Steven (c) June 2025

A Darwin Orange Sunset





A Darwin Orange Sunset



Twilight’s
Burly orange sky
Bedazzled my eyes
When
The hessian horizon
And the sun’s waxing resin
Flung
Streams of yellow beams
Across the paddock’s
Furrowed seams

Golden ponds
Flooded
Over the meadow
But did not drown
The field’s residing
Scarecrow

The arbitrary warrior
Accepted the world’s
Rotary mirror
And innately smiles
About being a human’s
Privileged curator






Ivor Steven (c) June 2025