Nature – Page 2 – Ivor.Plumber/Poet

The Show’s Never Over

It’s one of those weekends when the creative threads seem to weave together—poems waiting in my drafts, music humming through the house, and Saturday night’s Cohen Noir concert drawing closer with its promise of words, wisdom, and that unmistakable Leonard Cohen glow. The Show’s Never Over feels like the perfect analogy for it all: the way a poem keeps singing long after the final line, just as Cohen’s legacy keeps echoing through every voice that carries his songs forward.

To set the mood, I’ve paired the piece with this tender and beautifully rendered cover — David Gilmour’s “Thanks For The Dance”, from the Von Trapped Series — a quiet homage that feels right at home beside the poem.

The Show’s Never Over

Nature’s time-honoured outdoor theatre
never closes.
My out-of-date eyes
never tire
of remaining open for the entire show,
never asleep
until my weary midnight curtain
slowly drapes down
over my dreamtime playground.

Sometimes a poem leaves a final shimmer in the air — the same lingering glow that Cohen’s songs carry — and this quiet, heartfelt cover feels like the perfect echo of that moment.

Ivor Steven © September 2026

A Golden Bowtie

Feature Image : Created by Copilot and me — a wattlebird rising above a soft, cloud‑washed bridge in the sky. I sent my two photos (attached below) to my Copilot app and asked for an image of a wattlebird flying above a bridge in the sky. This is the result: a golden, dreamlike lift.

Today’s poem grew from a poetic anecdote I left on Nancy’s post last week — Suspended: A Sonnet – The Elephant’s Trunk
a moment of sky‑thinking that stayed with me.

A Golden Bowtie

Oh, to safely fly above
that peaceful bridge in the sky.
Like a worldwide dream —
a bowtie’s golden ribbon,
bandaging the stratosphere
together,
from here to Shanghai.

A quiet, drifting companion for the poem’s soft ascent.

Ivor Steven © September 2026

The Dark Side of Sunset

A peaceful sunset can feel like the world exhaling — yet sometimes, in that fading light, a different truth appears. This morning’s sky carried both beauty and unease, and my thoughts followed the sun toward the shadowed side of our turning planet.

The Dark Side of Sunset

I was absentmindedly marching,
away from worldly soul-searching,
when I saw the sun arching
toward the dark side of our planet.

Then I wondered
who’s there on the other side
of this old orb of granite.

And who decides
who lives and who dies
during the bleak, black night,
when the bombs batter
what’s left of the moonlight.

A final reflection on the sun’s descent — and the stark questions it leaves burning in the dark.

Ivor Steven © September 2026

Echoes of Goodbye

A gentle twilight settled over yesterday’s sky, its fading colours echoing the soft hush of evening. This poem grew from that quiet moment — a lingering farewell woven through the last light of day.

Echoes Of Goodbye

Daylight is on the soft edge of night.
Today’s sentinel sun
has wistfully said goodbye
to the world’s indigenous blue sky.

Twilight time
melodramatically commandeers
earth’s chromatic horizon.

I stand here, amazed and wondering
how do I explain these encircling,
empyreal surroundings
to the echoes of our final goodbye.

A final whisper of twilight, carried forward in song.

Ivor Steven © September 2026

A Blue Sky Rainbow

The day began with a rosy glow, the kind of gentle morning that seems to lean forward and welcome you in. Chrome‑tinted clouds drifted apart, the wattlebirds stirred their songs, and a brightening sky offered a quiet rainbow as a good‑luck sign. With nature setting such a hopeful tone, it felt only fitting that the Market followed suit — a day of kind faces, steady conversations, and a humble sense of things going right.

A Blue Sky Rainbow

Early Saturday morning
and we are out walking
before heading off to the Market

Dawn’s chrome clouds are clearing
the wakening wattlebirds are warbling
and serendipitously
there’s a rainbow in the sky
blithely waving hello and goodbye

Nature’s welcoming signs are favourable
and on this cozy, rosy day,
hopefully, Ivor’s Poetry Book display
will become humbly profitable

As the sky brightened, the music rose with it, and even the morning’s rainbow seemed to hum along.

Ivor Steven © September 2026

My Sign Is On The Climb

The beams that climbed through last night’s clouds left their mark — a quiet moment held in a soft, rising glow that lingered long enough to shape today’s bohemian rhyme.

Over at Weekly Prompts, the weekend Challenge word is Moment/s. To visit their fabulous site please click >> Here.

My Sign Is On The Climb

Life’s arduous and continuous incline
has me staggering beyond my prime.
Here, balancing between the sublime
and the interior of twilight time,
where the pearlised skyline’s
radiant beams are on the climb.

Perhaps I missed tonight’s assuring sign
while writing this bohemian rhyme,
and I didn’t see the clouds talking in mime
while being bedazzled by nature’s pantomime.

And as the sky’s glow drifts upward, today’s rhyme now meets this unforgettable anthem.

Ivor Steven © September 2026

Loose Gold Nooses (a Senryu)

“Loose Gold Nooses” — a collage creation by Ivor, blending a silhouetted bird in flight with a golden sunrise, echoing the haiku’s quiet tension and beauty.

Loose Gold Nooses (a Senryu)

There are excuses
For being tied in nooses
Of thin gold feathers

Let the final song unwind the day’s knots, where the gold loosens, the nooses fall away, and the night opens its hands.

Old Goat Blues (a Limerick)

Nancy’s “Feeding Time” post from last week sparked this limerick. A stray comment of mine turned into a tiny blues riff about Billy, the old goat who can’t keep out of trouble.
Nancy >> Feeding Time – The Elephant’s Trunk

Old Goat Blues (a Limerick)

Billy the silly old goat
Instead of his wild oats
He ate the old leathery shoes
Now he needs a glass of booze
To clear his sole full throat

And because Nancy’s goat set this whole thing in motion, here’s a porch‑blues groove with just enough swagger to keep his hooves tapping.

Steve the Snail’s Bookcase

Feature Image Above: Created by Copilot and me.

As twilight settles across the shelves, Steve pauses for thought atop his old bookcase…

Steve the Snail’s Bookcase

I’m sitting in a secret place
on top of this old bookcase —
I’m not a nutcase,
but wistfully wondering about that space
between the sun’s twilight zone
and the world’s traversing horizon.

Is that the mysterious place
beyond third base,
the dark coalface,
that I’m yet to embrace —
my final footrace?

But wait — before I vanish into space
without a trace,
I need to don my carapace
and tighten these slivery bootlaces.

Steve’s gentle reminder drifts in: put your hat and shoes on, and enjoy life while you’re able.

As Steve settles into the hush of twilight, this song drifts in beside him…

Bees, Birds, Beetles, and Butterflies

Four small lives in motion, each holding a different truth about today… and the uncertain tomorrow.

Bees, Birds, Beetles, and Butterflies

The bee’s knees
are busily pollinating
today’s flowers,
for tomorrow.

The bird’s eyes
are warily overseeing
today’s world,
mindful about tomorrow.

The beetle’s legs
are curiously wandering
toward today’s horizon,
still searching for tomorrow.

The butterfly’s wings
are wistfully fluttering,
knowing today’s sunny sky
won’t shine on them tomorrow.

Let the song settle over the small creatures of today, reminding us of how tender tomorrow truly is.