Christmas day around our sphere
A new frontier of hope and cheer
Enough food to outlast the big freeze
Enough drink to buckle a camel at the knees
Miles of smiles returning from exile
After hurdling a season of rusty turnstiles
I’m heavy enough to sink like a stone
Light enough in the head to fly to the moon
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020
One of my favourite writers here on WordPress, Colleen, of ‘Chatter Blog’ wrote this article a few days ago >> https://bikecolleenbrown.wordpress.com/2020/12/19/what-have-i-done/ ..
Her diagram touched me deeply, and I felt compelled to say something, but like Colleen’s words, I was also wondering “What Have I Done”, and I finally came up with this poem, which has left me saying to myself, “What Am I Trying To Say” ??
Our Leftover Burden
To the parents everywhere
Distance holds no barrier
To the warmth you have in your hearts
Do not worry about the mess
We have left our children
They are lovingly in good hands
Eternally surrounded
By heaven’s vast universe
Safely protected
By the sky’s resilient atmosphere
We are all able to share the burden
Of earth’s weighty gravity
Life’s picture is not always what we imagine to see
But a momentary glimpse of what real life is to be
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020
In response to Sadje’s of ‘Keep It Alive’ Prompt, What Do You See? #61… And please go and visit her fabulous site by clicking >> Here.
The Old Child In Me
Ho Ho, there is a child in me
splashing in the cool summer sea
dreaming of distant alpine trees
fluttering like a pretty butterfly in the breeze
laughing under moss covered circus marquees
and there is that day I sat on Santa’s knee
asking for my red-head to be set free
wishing her a life of peace and tranquillity
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020
Today I forgot the date
I’ve yet to set foot on the landscape
And I cannot recall last night’s videotape
Maybe I went to bed too late
Or did I drink too many of those red grapes
I’m fighting with my breakfast crepe
And losing the battle to look shipshape
It’s time to put on my battered superman cape
And unlock last year’s rusty gate
Ready for next year’s great escape
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020
Over on Weekly Prompts, their Weekend Challenge is the word, ART “The main thing is to be moved, to love, to hope, to tremble, to live.” – Auguste Rodin. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking >>HERE. My poem today was written before I saw the “Prompt”, but if you use your imagination you will understand the artwork of my poem… “A true artist is not one who is inspired, but one who inspires others.” ― Salvador Dali
Life’s Handcuffs
Wherever aging shadows fall
time watches cracks grow on fading walls
Imagination cultivates souls to evolve
and emancipates the hearts emotions
Imagination motivates the brain to think
and instigates the eyes to open wider
Imagination activates the sculptures hiding in my museum
and stimulates the feathers of my old quill
Are these visions ever to be enough
enough for my dreams to escape life’s handcuffs
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020
Hello dear readers, here I am feeling nostalgic, yes it’s Christmas time, and I have too write a rhyme about how I feel inside… I am not sad, just a guy reminiscing… enjoy my words, and savour Damien Rice’s wonderful song….
Memory Kisses
A cool breeze caresses my open heart
An aura of warmth touches my lonely soul
Memory dust settles upon my empty lips
I cannot see her celestial star shine
But I sense her feathery kisses
As her spirit hovers above me for Christmas
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020.
life is a arduous marathon
a conundrum until the finishing line
we live in the moment
yesterday has gone
and we are not in charge of tomorrow
today is a new gift to be opened
time knowingly evolves in ripples and wrinkles
openly displaying our shuffles and muffles
life is a bittersweet marathon
moving forward without bitterness
savouring the sweetness of completing the race
I’m leaving my today
a little bit wiser and a day older
gratefully my heart beats healthily
Featured Image: A photo of a painting hanging in the waiting room at the heart specialist rooms
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020
café courtyard
my chromatic citadel
a comfy circle
of calm citizens
closely coexisting
the clock casually chimes
crunchy cereal comes
crazy cranberries
and cool cherries
cultured coffee
cinnamon cake
with celestial chords
by Cohen and Cave
and Cyndi’s choral classic
caressing city central
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020.
A big thank you to Beth for inspiring my self indulgent poem here, from her thought provoking article >> https://ididnthavemyglasseson.com/2020/12/14/can-you-write/
A Spacey Eighty, Ten Years On
the quill is shaky
ink’s leaky and streaky
my dry skin is itchy
and old bones are achy
I am a flower child of the sixties
and after a crunchy brekkie
followed by a coffee and cakey
despite a shady plaguy
maybe I will ably write daily
when I’m a spacey eighty
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020
Two thousand and twenty
Dramatic events a plenty
Firstly the worst bush-fires for a century
When Mother-nature became the enemy
Then a foreign virus exploded
And Earth’s atmosphere corroded
Our lives turned cloudy and uncrowded
Covid even bloated and reloaded
No country was immune
And the World spun all out of tune
Here in Aussie-land normality returns for Christmas
And here’s cheers to next years unfinished business
Cheers
Ivor ((Hugs & Kisses))
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 