Head’s falling like an unpinned grenade.
Soon ready to explode.
Burying shrapnel pieces in corners of shade.
Scattered like broken retina globes.
Razor blades shredding memory lockets.
Slivered icicles inside blurry sockets.
Needles of pain.
Sheets of sleet before the rain.
Bloodied eyeball tracks like meteor trails.
And the pain numbing capsules do fail.
Oh please, blindly needing to set sail.
Upon swirling Oceans, like Homer’s tales.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Image: digitalartrocks 1.blogspot.com
Gradually the dying moonlight awakened my dawn.
And the baptizing sunrise watered my eyes.
Drowning the working hours of my shallow day.
Dampening fiery thoughts of playing in the hay.
Dusk hazily shrouds my cemetery lawn.
And the rituals of sunset beckon my daily plight.
Flailing and falling upon sleepless night.
Finally laying prone under my weighted crown.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Her last words were, “how can we expect righteousness to prevail when there is hardly anyone willing to give himself up individually to a righteous cause? Such a fine sunny day, and I have to go, but what does my death matter, if through us thousands of people are awakened and stirred to action?”
I’ve written this piece to be included in a charity book, for the “Black Dog Institute” here in Australia. The book is to be called, “My Lost Sock”, and every story in the charity book will be an anecdote about “My Lost Sock”. The Black Dog Institute, is a not-for-profit facility for diagnosis, treatment and prevention of Depression and Bipolar disorder.
My Lost Sock
A Christmas Story
I’m a hand knitted woollen sock.
Here’s my story from year dot.
In the beginning.
I started as a piece of spinning.
The wool off a sheep’s back.
An odd colour of brownie-black.
Being spun into dark twines.
On a wheel from olden times.
Craftily hand knitted.
Lovingly, soon to be gifted.
There were two of us.
We were like knitted twins.
Righty and Lefty.
And of course I’m Righty.
Our gorgeous red-haired spinner and knitter.
Had dutifully finished.
Cheerfully folded and wrapped.
In colourful paper and flower strap.
A fabulous Christmas present.
For her husband’s aged parent.
Soon it was Christmas day.
Everyone’s jolly, merry and gay.
Drinking red wine, local Cabernet.
Eating fish, caught in a nearby bay.
And presents opening time began.
Families smiled and sang.
We’re sitting on Pop’s lap.
Gently and slowly unwrapped.
Pop proudly exclaims and holds us up.
“Look here, see what I’ve got”.
Suddenly Pop throws Lefty into the corner.
And I’m left dangling like “Little Jack Horner”
There’s much laughter and jokes.
Kids come over and give me a friendly poke.
Poor discarded Lefty, on the floor with no folks.
While I’m up here being kindly stroked.
There’s more giggles, they’re all staring at me.
Pop’s grinning from ear to ear.
Wriggling in his wheelchair to loud cheers.
Oh, my discovery, Pop’s left leg’s missing below his knee.
Visit Kaylaann’s site, always a fascinating read.
This is such a huge accomplishment for me! I want to give a special shout out to those followers who I engage with every week! So to those who are regularly stopping by, liking, and leaving a comment, (you know who you are):
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From: calensariel, of Impromptu Impromptlings
20TuesdayFeb 2018
Welcome back to The Sandbox Writing Challenge! This week’s challenge MAY be an easy one for you, but maybe NOT! We’ve already touched on what makes us unique, but now we’d like to know what it is about you or that you do that makes you stand out from those around you? It’s hard for some of us to give ourselves the kudos we truly deserve, so here’s your chance to do just that. (And we all LOVE you, so go for it with gusto!) Don’t hold back now!
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I Do Thee Shine
When I was little and young.
“Your heart will always shine” Said Mum.
When I grew up, a know-all teenager.
Head strong, and an all-night rager.
“Your love of life will shine through” Said Dad.
Later on I married, so happy and glad.
Suddenly, one spring, MS touched her bad.
The shining dulled and time turned sad.
Dad said, “Your heart shone through”.
And Mum said, “Her Star will always shine on you”.
My Star, my Dad and Mum, you are my spine.
For you, I do thee shine.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Sagging like a half-broken branch
On a newly planted olive tree
In need of gentle husbandry
A new growth, a strong bud
To eventually replace thee
A younger twig for all to see
Alas, lack of nurturing stifled glee
And no fresh flowers for a honey-bee
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
