


Slow Motion (a Haiku)
Spring grass, lush and green
Yellow flowerbeds abound
Butterflies slow down
Ivor Steven (c) September 2022
Presenting another poem from my new book “Tullawalla”
I wrote “My Broken Mast” in January 2020, and the poem appears in my new book “Tullawalla”

My Broken Mast
Yesterday, a sudden stormy gale
Ripped through my leafy sail
And tore my oldest branch down
Crashing onto the ground
Leaving my main mast, hurtfully marred
A long open wound, and I’m painfully scarred
Mother, will dry my weeping tears
And I’ll recover to live another thirty years
Fatefully, my debris fell safely
All my owner’s guests escaped injury
And I left their ship damage free
Tomorrow they’ll clear my messy sea
Then rest under the shade of me
Ivor Steven (c) January 2020
G’day, and welcome to my blog site. My name is Ivor Steven, I live in Geelong, Australia. I’m an ex-industrial chemist, and a retired plumber, and a former Carer of my wife(Carole), for 30 years, who suffered from severe MS. I Write poetry about those…
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Tullawalla is now available at Amazon
>> https://www.amazon.com/Tullawalla-Meeting-Memories-Australian-Languages/dp/0645377023/ref=sr_1_2?crid=2NUSUI90AWK6&keywords=Tullawalla&qid=1663851584&s=books&sprefix=tullawalla%2Cstripbooks-intl-ship%2C301&sr=1-2
Who’s Left to Row the Boat
… This week it is 22 years since I suffered my first stroke …
The storms are too many to count
Emotional lows had weathered me out
Her journey with MS was a struggle
How much lower could our lives sink
After fourteen years of our battles, I suffered a Stroke
An ambulance came, my brain was in a boat
Floating out to sea, overboard and panic-stricken
I wasn’t swimming, barely awake, and drifting
I had fallen, nothing was working, and not talking
She’s crying, I’m sobbing, my heart is dying
And who’s left to row the boat, I’m thinking
I was jabbed with a needle and silently sleeping
I awoke a day later, in hospital, feeling wasted
My face was limp, mouth parched, was that death I tasted
My mind was active, I thought, where is she
I knew I was bad; the room was all blurry to me
Strong anxieties had set in, I needed to know
Nurses came to me, I pleaded, I wanted to go
“Help me to see her, just give my bed a tow
Please let me go, before I’m covered in snow”
Ivor Steven (c) September 2022

Tullawalla is now Available at Amazon
>> https://www.amazon.com/Tullawalla-Meeting-Memories-Australian-Languages/dp/0645377023/ref=sr_1_2?crid=1IICHBAUD55HH&keywords=Tullawalla&qid=1663803829&s=books&sprefix=tullawalla%2Cstripbooks-intl-ship%2C276&sr=1-2
A Haiku from Tullawalla, “Page 118”
In Your Time (a Hiaku)
You can’t fly pass time
Travel with time, hand in hand
Time is not faceless
Ivor Steven (c) September 2022

My old school-case from sixty-years ago, full of “Tullawalla Books”
My house has been invaded by “Tullawalla Books” … come over and join the party, and lets celebrate … my long awaited SELF-PUBLISHED new edition is NOW available
… contact me via my web-email >> ivorrs20@gmail.com The book is only $20.00 AU plus postage & handling. If you are interested in purchasing a book, send me an email, I’ll send a PayPal Invoice out to you.
This Fence (Tullawalla, page 33)
I am quickly nearing this fence.
An obstacle of a lifetime I see.
And from my side of this fence,
The hurdle is too high for me.
And on the other side of this fence,
There seems nowhere to land or flee.
I have arrived at this fence,
Above the pickets, just grey sky.
And on my side of this fence,
The grass is brown and dry.
On the other side of this fence,
The grass is green, but still I cry.
How am I to clear this fence,
There seems nowhere to go or get by.
This fence, all built of stones,
Breaks my spirit, and all my bones.
Ivor Steven (c) September 2022

I can hear the echoes from Tullawalla sounding closer …
My night’s sleep was calm and sound
Despite the deafening noise of echo’s lost a found
I heard the midnight owl singing
Replaying tunes, of last year’s bells ringing
My blankets had not been disturbed
As if my shadow had slept unperturbed
And my mind had been emptied of yesterday’s wind burns
Then my morning song whispered the words, “sunshine returns”
Ivor Steven (c) August 2022

Jaymah Press
COMING SOON! 10 SEPTEMBER 2022
Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands Are Full of Memories and Rhymes
Poetry by Ivor Steven. Artwork by Kerri Costello
A Crack in The Wall
Placing yesteryear’s photos
In that bygone album
Cutting window holes
In today’s front door
Pasting forgotten memories
In the Bible, so forlorn
Packing tomorrows cases
Full of dusty dreams
Clutching torn curtains
Darkened to the outside world
Passing a crumbling brick wall
Weakened by the original fall
Ivor Steven (c) August 2022
Tullawalla:

Illustration by Kerri Costello
Chapter 4
Humour, Wit, Sarcasm, And Christmas Stories
If Only Walls Could Talk
It’s true you know
Walls can talk
So I’ve been told
By a beautiful Rose
You’ll have to listen
Listen very closely
Put your ear against the wall
Use a stethoscope if you must
Listen to the wooden heart
Standing proud and tall
A rough soul rendered smooth
Layers of paint, every hue
Covering up dusty memories
Of hearts lost through years of cavities
Like the old Wailing Wall
You’re walking along a history hall
Your secrets, one and all
They’ve heard every gasp
Your children’s moans
And your lover’s groans
Ivor Steven (c) August 2022