Its Just A Little Dream

Hi dear readers and friends, as you know I dream a lot, and most of my poems are from the images of my dreams. And this one is a typical example, a poem I posted here in June 2017, and was published by “The Drabble” in early July. A sincere thank you to Varnika Jain of Moonlighting Scrivener, for inspiring me to repost my “Dream”

It’s Just A Little Dream

 

I’ve been waiting inside,

For that never-never ride.

Wishing for that little shrug,

To turn into a dream-time hug.

I’ve been waiting outside,

Trying not to hide.

Wishing for that little smile,

To travel one more mile.

I’ve been waiting all-day,

Calling out, please stay.

Wishing for that little heartbeat,

To lay down at my feet.

I’ve been waiting all-night,

For that one-way flight.

Wishing for that little dove,

To glide over my love.

I’ve been waiting, seems forever,

Crying quietly, oh whatever.

Wishing for that little embrace,

To become my last dance.

Ivor Steven (c)

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Ivor Steven: Lily and a Lizard of Wizardry

A sincere thanks to the Slasher Monster Magazine team, for publishing my poem, and for their wondrous presentation and the wizardry artwork, I’m sure Lily/lizzy would be magically pleased.

SlasherMonster

My loving dog Lily, died last week.
And I broken heartedly buried her deep.
Beneath her favourite sunny spot.
In the middle of our warm courtyard plot.

Then today, on top of her grave.
Sitting, staring at me so brave.
Lazily sunbaking, a big Blue-tongued Lizard.
His pointy tail twirling like a wizard.

The lizard laid near our orchids, like our Lily.
He squinted as I moved towards him stealthily.
But he shook his sleek head in fright.
And raced fish-swift out of sight.

Whimsically I wonder, is he !
A reincarnation of our little Lily.
Not that I really believe.
And what would you believe.
Could Lily be a Lizard of Wizardry.
Or her living spirit, now named Lizzy.

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River Of Destiny

Going to see that lady of Wizardry.

In the grey house of mystery.

Over the bridge, strong and earthy.

Finding my path to bravery.

Not to be judged lightly.

But cured for all eternity.

 

Bending, a bow to the Queen, so ghostly.

In the castle of life, so empty.

Far from again being carefree.

Finding my journey to longevity.

Not to be forlorn and angry.

But face friends and foe all calmly.

 

Searching to see her hidden beauty.

In the distant Abbey, so eerie.

Over the boundaries, through the valley.

Finding my river of destiny.

Not to be trialed for my sanity.

But unveiled, for all humanity.

 

Ivor Steven (c)

Foreign World

I’m stuck inside this shabby carapace.

Wondering if I’ll ever be able to about-face.

To eye the open foreign world.

Now I’m without my girl.

 

Maybe I’ll try to escape this weary place.

Discovering if I’m able to find lost grace.

To wander the harvest field.

Now I see beyond the shield.

Rid The shackles of my broken heart.

Return to reality, and apply for a restart.

 

Free to walk past the tardy bar stools.

And fly with all the other old fools.

Free to avoid those prying ghouls.

And paddle in all of life’s little pools.

 

Ivor Steven (c)

A Christmas Diamond, A Sparkling Jewel

Dreamt of your radiant face last night.

So serene, a diamond, a dove, so pure white.

Not sad, just vivid memories, oh so bright.

And still plenty of tears, don’t worry, I’m alright.

Visions of your bravery, courage above and beyond.

So gracious, an everlasting smile for everyone.

Completely in awe, amazing, oh what an anthem.

And still crying out, you were natures stellar blossom.

Felt your pain, your sorrow, revealed to only a few.

So uncomplaining, never a burden, never a shrew.

Thinking the whole world should be like you.

Wishing this hungry planet could cheerful too.

Wondering is life, sometimes ordained cruel.

But I’ll continue on, for you, my sparkling Jewel.

 

Ivor Steven  (c)

Featured Image, DHGate.com  rinhoo jewelry.

Big Black Oil Cap

Not the Town’s greatest car lover.

An automobile, an object like any other.

Petrol guzzlers

Noisy muzzlers

Inanimate metal and plastic, costing plenty of dough.

Pity, they do need some care though.

Spoilt and fed like a hungry teenager

Cooling water in the radiator.

Screw the shiny brass cap back on.

Fresh-air in the tyres.

Screw the little rubber caps back on.

Dear-as-poison petrol in the tank.

Screw the safety fuel cap back on.

Lubricating oil in the engine-head.

This’s where absent-mindedness overtook instead.

Forgot to screw the Big Black Oil Cap back on.

Drove to the Big City next day.

Not realizing I’d gone badly awry.

Traveled home in a very steamy-hot car.

Back onto the driveway tar.

Oil dripping over the front bumper-bar.

Opened the bonnet, Aaaahhh !!

The engine’s like a whales spout.

Breathing boiling slimy oil all about.

And there’s that Big Black Oil Cap.

Alone on the garage bench.

Like a magicians gleaming black hat.

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Ivor Steven.

 

“Where Have All The Good Times Gone”

A few days ago I had started writing a poem about Penny Farthing Bicycles, prompted by an article in the Geelong Advertiser newspaper, the arrival in Geelong of eight members of the Melbourne Bicycle Club in March 1880, as per featured picture above, courtesy of the Geelong Heritage Centre Collection. Then I was chatting with my friend Jane of Janebasilblog, she had just sent me the song and lyrics of the Mary Hopkin hit, “Those Were The Days”, from 1968, and I mentioned The Kinks were one of my fav’s from that era, and of course their song “Lola”. After our chat, I starting thinking [which is dangerous for me] about writing a crazy, combined, mixed up poem… The piece below is the result of those thoughts, and to my older readers, you’ll notice all the phrases written in Italic, are song titles taken from The Kinks album “The Kinks Collection”. So apologies to Ray Davies for using his song titles in such a manner. And thankyou to Jane for providing me with the inspiration to actually write these jumbled up words.

“Where Have All The Good Times Gone”

 

I remember the olden times

Of pennies and farthings

Pounds and pence

When money made no sense

Mary Hopkins sang

“Those Were The Days”

And the Kinks song “Lola”

Was the best number one ever

Many a lazy Sunny Afternoon

Spent down near Waterloo Sunset

Where we would all dance

All Of The Day And All Of The Night

My Friends would all dress-up

Like Dedicated Followers Of Fashion

Unlike that lonely Plastic Man

Who faked the Death Of A Clown

Way back then, You Really Got Me

You fired me up, here in Victoria

Thousands of Days forgotten in the burn-out

Charred in a cloud of Big Black Smoke

But now, I’m Tired Of Waiting For You

Wondering, Where Have All The Good Times Gone

Ivor Steven

29th November 2017.  4.00pm