Here in Geelong we have been experiencing a wintry blast over the last few days, so appropriately I have chosen “Five Shades of Grey” for my Throwback Friday poem. I originally wrote the poem in April 2019
Five Shades of Grey
Daylight turns into night
Ravens scatter in mid-flight
Dark clouds overlay
Five shades of grey
Thor’s hammer roars
His spark of fire, soar
Fiercely, a flaming bolt strikes
Piercing frightened psyches
Ivor Steven (c) March 2021
Today’s poem is in response to Sadje’s Photo Prompt >> What do you see # 294- 23 June, 2025 – – https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2025/06/23/what-do-you-see-294-23-june-2025/
My poem can be interpreted into both of Sadje’s prompt images.
Life, Beyond the Lines
Life’s a continual battle
but the battle lines
are there to be crossed
Life’s wondrous museum
inspires me to keep exploring
the universe’s grand Colosseum
Ivor Steven © June 2025
My iPad Cushion
In the mornings
I like to lie in bed
And use my iPad
I sit up with pillows
Behind my back
And I have a rolled-up white towel
That I use as an iPad cushion
And Frankie usually sleeps on my feet
However, on this cold winter morning
Frankie decided to snuggle up closer
Which enabled me to rest the iPad
On his white, fluffy head
Without even a blink of an eye lid
He was simply happy to be near me
Ivor Steven © June 2025
Winter Solstice’s Pink Finale
From high above the trees
Nature decrees
Winter solstice is here
With zero degrees
And a frosty veneer
Above sunset’s finale archway
Nature celebrated the shortest day
With an extravagant display
Of twilight’s vibrant pink ballet
Ivor Steven (c) June 2025
Above, the pretty poet fairy and my neighbouring stallholder, Meagan
A Pretty Poet Fairy
We all believe in the magical world of fairies
And we all know about
The mischievous toadstool fairies
And the benevolent tooth fairies
Naiads and Nymphs are nature’s
Wondrous water-bound fairies
And I personally chat to the Dryads
Our wise and protective tree fairies
Today, at the Makers Market
I was lucky enough
To meet a pretty poet fairy
She was curiously fascinated
By my yellow ‘Lucky-dip’ bucket
“Dig deep, and take a poem home”
“May I?” she politely asked
“You are more than welcome”
She gently grabbed a lucky envelope
and sweetly grinned
“May I take one for my sister”
“Yes, of course”
“Oh, I have a little sister too!
Amused, I said, “No worries”
“And my dad likes poetry too!”
“That’s lovely, you must have a wonderful dad”
Her enchanting smile made my day
Ivor Steven (c) June 2025
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
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
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
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
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
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 