Eagle (a Telestitch)

“The soul has illusions as the bird has wings.” — Victor Hugo

“One Day,” when I photographed a wedge-tailed eagle gliding across a clear Victorian sky. Its silhouette stirred something ancient — a whisper of myth, a search for meaning.
This ‘Telestitch’ poem was written in response to Coffee House Writers’ monthly poetry assignment, and for the Weekly Prompts “One Day” Monthly Challenge. To visit their fabulous site, click >> Here






Eagle (a Telestitch)


The wistful wedge-tailed eagle,
Soars toward the mystical Southern Aurora,
Searching for the anomaly’s hidden beginning,
Hoping to find the missing Holy Grail.
All the horizon’s dreams dissolve into the sky’s finale.








Ivor Steven (c) November 2025

A Tiny Bird in a Deep Blue Sky

Featured Image Above: Mid-flight and mildly wrecked—this tiny bird attempts its final rescue, beneath a deep blue sky.”


From dizzy heights to grounded mornings—last night’s revelry left me chasing feathers in the wind. Here’s a tiny bird (Welcome Swallow), a deep blue sky, and a poem that remembers too much red wine.

Over at Weekly Prompts,  the Weekend Challenge is the word ‘Excessive’. You can visit their fabulous site by clicking >> Here.
In my poem, I wrote about having an “Excessive” amount of ‘red wine’ at the Event last night …





A Tiny Bird in a Deep Blue Sky

Too many late nights,
Too much red wine.
I consumed too many savoury bites —
Throw me a rescue line
That’s not made of grapevines.

My eyes look like Christmas lights;
I’m getting too old for these dizzy heights.
Oh well, I’ve plenty of time to recover —
Until next week’s Writers party hangover.







Ivor Steven (c) November 2025

An Epic Saga (a Haibun)

Featuered Image Above; Theo, tethered but tenacious — reaching for the light once more.

** Over at Weekly Prompts,  the Weekend Challenge is the word Epic. To visit their wonderful site, please click >> Here.


Back in early June, readers might remember my poem about “Theo” the tomato tree — a bold little sprout defying the odds. I’m pleased to announce that Theo has survived an arduous winter. Today, beneath the mulch and morning mist, there are tender signs of regrowth. >> https://ivorplumberpoet.press/2025/06/09/bold-and-defiant/.




Like good Doctor Who
Theo’s regenerated
Will he produce fruit?






Ivor Steven (c) November 2025

Away With the Faeries


Over at Weekly Prompts, the Weekend Challenge is the word Circumspection.
To visit their fabulous site, please click HERE





Away With the Faeries



Walking in a dreamy haze,
Inside a bubble of days.

Yet hearing a silent morning chant,
From the intrigued missionary ant.

Talking to an unreadable cloud,
Ignoring the bewildered crowd.

Yet the sky is a warm winter blue,
And toes are sipping yesterday’s stew.

Meandering and wondering-
Then wandering toward today’s horizon.

A hessian bag of forests and mountains,
A stone’s throw away from tomorrow’s fountain.

An ocean beyond magpies and wallabies,
In a land of bearberries and faeries.






Ivor Steven (c) August 2025

An Old Snail Shell (a Tank)


Over at Weekly Prompts, this weekend is their monthly Colour Challenge, and they selected the colour BROWN. To visit their fabulous site, please click HERE.

A big thank you to, Nancy for being the source of my inspiration for this poem

https://theelephantstrunk.org/2025/08/01/the-shells-2/



An Old Snail Shell (a Tanka)

Rusty and earthen,
I supported her burden.
I was no Spartan,
And asked for no one’s pardon-
I’m a bygone guardian.






Beluga Lagoon, The Snail, Lyrics

Pain, no really for me
Some will suffer far more than I will but then we’ll all be still some day
A snail, I’m a snail on the sea
And so slowly I sink to the deep as I try to remember peace

Lions and tigers and beggars and bears
They all live today and they all will decay
The world and the folk and the things you could see
And I swim in the gloom in a room where I struggle to breathe

Where I struggle to breathe
Where I struggle to breathе

Streetlights, gold on cold
Like a beacon
In my sort of soul
Grows so old now the cold
Kills my bonеs
Kills my bones
Kills my bones
Kills my bones
Kills my bones

Graveyards make me calm
I don’t know why
Deepest kind of dreaming
Caribbean coastline
Clear blue water
Clear blue water
Clear blue water
Clear blue water
Clear blue water
Clear blue water
Clear blue water
Clear blue water
Clear blue water
Clear blue water



Ivor Steven (c) August 2025

“Tock-tick, or “47 is 74”

Apologies to my followers and readers for not blogging much this weekend. Sorry, it has been a hectic weekend for me and I have run out of “Time” … Market Day, Saturday, and my Dome Poetry meeting on Sunday … I’ll have no breath left to blow out the candles!!

Over at Weekly Prompts, the Weekend Challenge is Back-to-Front. To visit their fabulous site, please click HERE


“Tock-tick”, or “47 is 74”


I am seventy-four today
And as I am growing older
I am hearing time ticking
Back-to-front
Sounding more like “tock-tick”
Instead of a steady “tick-tock”

Once upon a time
For every moment
There was a second
Now, in one moment
There are two seconds!
And the old hands
On my rusty sundial
Cannot find time’s
Elusive shadow

Alas, I have searched
Inside out and upside down
For the key to time’s
New age design
“A backless clock
Without any front”






Ivor Steven (c) July 20th, 2025

Water and Sand


Over at Weekly Prompts, it’s the last weekend of the month, and it’s time for the One Day Prompt. To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here


Water and Sand

I am a nomadic island
A minute rock of water and sand
An unstable molecular lotion
In the universe’s vast ocean

I am one unsinkable living gland
At the mercy of nature’s timeless hands





Ivor Steven (c) June 2025

A Technical Knockout


Today’s poem is from a poetic response that I post about ‘Violet’s’ emotive poem >> https://violetslentz.home.blog/2025/05/27/pink-slip-2/

And over at Weekly Prompts, it’s the last weekend of the month and time for their One Day Prompt! To visit their fabulous site, please click on > Here




A Technical Knockout



When you’re down and out
feeling like a dry river-bed trout
flipping around after an endless drought
And you’re in the vacant corner of another losing bout
There’ll be one day, without doubt
you’ll have nothing left to shout about

Please, I beg, one last Guinness stout
before I get kicked in the spout
by Trump’s next lockout roundabout

After the ruthless rout,
when I blacked out
I was told by a local layabout
“there was no doubt,
the decision was a Technical Knockout”






Ivor Steven (c) June 2025

Hit and Run


Over at Weekly Prompts, the Weekend Challenge is the word Cavalier. To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here



Hit and Run


Reluctantly, there I was
Tidying “our” shared nature strip
Picking up the obnoxious rubbish
And placing it back
In “his” smelly garbage bin
Which had been knocked over
By the “neighbour’s” visitor

The culprit had fled the scene
The “cavalier neighbour” remained inside

Distur‘bin’ly,
This was a messy case
Of
“Hit and Run”







.


Until Eyes Hear Sound

Lulu Books >>  Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)



Perceptions:

Amazon >>  Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >>  Perceptions (lulu.com)



Tullawalla:

Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books



OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com


Ivor Steven © May 2025