Tag: Poetry/Australia

A Violet, and A Blade Of Grass(today)

 

A Violet and A Blade Of Grass

 

Years ago I met a pretty young lady

With hair the colour of autumn leaves

I liked her, and she liked me

And our courtship flourished rapidly

One day we were walking down by the river

Where I casually paused to pick a flower

And I gently placed the violet in her hair

She fondly smiled, and said quietly

“Open your hand, I’ve a gift for you too”

Upon my palm she tenderly placed a blade of grass

“There, that is to signify my eternal love for you”

I blushed and smile, and said proudly

“As mother nature is my witness, I love you”

“And thank you, for this blade of grass”

“I shall treasure your kindness forever”

My heart was pounding, as I steadily took her hand

And uttered the words, “Would you like to marry me”

 

Shine On, Shine On..

Her distant star shines
Walking down by the river
My life’s always fine………..

 

**You may view my poem “It’s Just A Little Dream”, by clicking onto this link >> https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/12/18/its-just-a-little-dream-2/

 

Ivor Steven (c)  May 3rd 2020

 

 

 

A Violet and A Blade Of Grass

It’s Saturday and the start of the month, and on “Weekly Prompts” their monthly colour challenge is:  Razzmatazz!, Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking >HERE. Below is my response to their prompt…

 

A Violet and A Blade Of Grass

 

Years ago I met a pretty young lady

With hair the colour of autumn leaves

I liked her, and she liked me

And our courtship flourished rapidly

One day we were walking down by the river

Where I casually paused to pick a flower

And I gently placed the violet in her hair

She fondly smiled, and said quietly

“Open your hand, I’ve a gift for you too”

Upon my palm she tenderly placed a blade of grass

“There, that is to signify my eternal love for you”

I blushed and smile, and said proudly

“As mother nature is my witness, I love you”

“And thank you, for this blade of grass”

“I shall treasure your kindness forever”

My heart was pounding, as I steadily took her hand

And uttered the words, “Would you like to marry me”

 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  May 3rd 2020

My World, Beyond The Front Door

Apologies to my readers and followers for not commenting on your articles with my usual zest…. but I’m out in the big bad world, busy working as a plumber again, and by the time I get home I’m a tired bag of bones….. For everyone who’s isolated at home, I thoroughly recommend that you have a look at a YouTube program called “BAD SEED TEEVEE”, featuring Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, with interviews, film clips, songs, old videos, and they are on 24/7,  produced for your pleasure as a “Stay Home” show…….

 

My World, Beyond The front Door

 

I’m feeling dead tired

But not quite dead yet

More like terribly tired

But I’m not that terrible

Call me awfully worn out

No! Don’t say I’m awful

 

The poet has gone missing

He’s back to wearing blue overalls

On the tools, as a plumber again

An old working class man

Ouch! My poor soft little paws

Are blistered and sore

 

And I leave my comfy writing desk

Now a vacant treasure chest

While I venture out onto real soil

Visiting my world of intriguing toil

 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020

Shangri La, (this is a replay)

 

I personally like this poem, so I am presenting the piece again for you to read…

 

Shangri La

 

I’m not on a desolate island

My head is not buried in the sand

And I am not going crazy

You might be crazier than me

Because I saw you reading about

How to fly overseas

 

I used to be the sanest

Old man in town

You could always find me

On top of Mount Everest

 

Now I’m locked away

In between my two ears

Playing one handed ping pong

In between crowd-less cheers

Listening to musical ding dong

In between my poetry and beers

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020.

Shangri La

On “Weekly Prompts” the word: Desolate, is the weekend challenge. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking >> HERE… Below is my response to the their prompt.

 

Shangri La

 

I’m not on a desolate island

My head is not buried in the sand

And I am not going crazy

You might be crazier than me

Because I saw you reading about

How to fly overseas

 

I used to be the sanest

Old man in town

You could always find me

On top of Mount Everest

 

Now I’m locked away

In between my two ears

Playing one handed ping pong

In between crowd-less cheers

Listening to musical ding dong

In between my poetry and beers

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020

There’s A Kink In My Stairway

The battle never seems to end

As the fight continues to ascend

Life’s journey is full of lumpy meals

Like bitter and sweet lemon peels

 

Under the crusty topsoil

Ancient Earth is on the boil

Spewing out contagious oils

Being spread by lowly hydrofoils

The world’s on pause and in turmoil

Needing a big dose of Castor Oil

 

A friend calls, in-between the bedlam

Hello, I welcome, your welcome

We wish each other a chirpy day

I’m smiling and happily humming away

My music’s playing, volumes on seven

A ninth replay of ‘Stairways To Heaven’

I’m teary and starting to over-think

Must be time for the ‘Kinks’, and my next drink

 

 

 

Ivor Stewven (c)  April 2020

The Sun Arose Again

There must be a number of silent masks around

Yesterday an old mask flew away at the speed of sound

From behind, the real pieces of what we perceive

Are leftover bones, bleached by sky and sea

Where the worn pebbles lingering in the hand

Fall gently upon lines drawn in the sand

And these new beginnings could be a heavenly gift

As white doves soar above the mourning cliffs

 

Perhaps  the next awakening will be a peaceful one

Full of friendly compassion and wisdom

I’m lucky today, the sun arose again

To light up the hallway, despite the rain

I’ll be the first one to walk out the door

And the only one left here, to see her valour

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020

Screaming From the Hills

For this week’s Wednesday Challenge from “Weekly Prompts” they’ve chosen the word: HABITS… Please go and visit their fabulous site by clicking >> HERE…Below is my response to their prompt…. again my poem has taken an abstract look at one of my old habits….

 

Screaming From the Hills

 

Time for the car and I to leave the garage

And drive to the old mountain range

Many years have passed and been spun around

Since I stood atop that ancient mound

And cleared my lungs from inside the clouds

Yelling hallowed words to distant crowds

 

I’d listen for the valley to answer so loud

A thousand voices echoing so proud

Me, with my cheeky grin, commanding the world

To hear those profound words that I had hurled

 

If not to the world, then to all within range

As I screamed. “Peace and love are not estranged”

But was I only a foolish dreamer on a hill

Rewriting and rebounding old habits from my quill

 

 

Featured Image Above: A photo of the low-lying mountain range, the ‘You Yangs’ which are only 20mins from my home… https://www.tripadvisor.com.au/Attraction_Review-g255098-d627257-Reviews-You_Yangs_Regional_Park-Victoria.html

Ivor Steven (c) April 2020

Weariness

I’m not one, to feel depressed

This is more an aura, of been oppressed

 

Bones are aching

Muscles are throbbing

And I feel like I’ve run a marathon

But I’ve hardly ventured out into the fray

Here I am in isolation

Wondering about the sun’s X-rays

 

I’m not one, to feel depressed

This is more an aura, of been oppressed

 

I’ve a thumping headache

My misty eyes are tired

And I feel like I’ve rewritten the Bible

But I’ve only been writing a poem a day

Here I am in isolation

Wondering about my future’s stairway

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020