Just A Call Away

Another poem from my archives, that I’ve tinkered with, and rehashed slightly. The poem was written years before Carole passed, so the wording is quite ambiguous and introverted, and I’ll leave it up to your imaginations.

Just A Call Away


Waiting, when is she to summon me.

Pondering what might have been.

Writing to one and all a finale.

Pen to paper, wanting her to see.

How I survived the Tasman Seas.

Secretly thinking I’m the chosen one.

Wondering if it’s a selfish sin.

Aching to lose, so I may win.


Ivor Steven (c) Β 2018.

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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 personal thoughts, throughout and beyond my life as a Carer. I've been blogging for over 2 years, and writing poems for 19 years. Of course a lot of my poems are about my favourite subject Carole, but since I've been blogging my writings have become quite varied, humourous, mystical, observational, and even a few monster/horror poems.

22 thoughts on “Just A Call Away”

  1. For me it was the waiting,she,my mother how die already long before the final,what was left was her physical form
    Natures deficit disorder,she had lost her life in the natural order then it was taking a #waiting her turn
    Those lives that matter sometimes
    Only matters to the
    one who is trying reconcile

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Good one Colleen, I hardly understand my own words from way back then, life was so awfully tough and completely stressful for us…. Basically waiting and knowing that the MS is getting much worse, and all the associated anxieties, of sooner or later, !!


      1. I’m glad you understand, I always have trouble trying to properly express my emotions and thoughts of those difficult times, not long after my stroke, and I don’t think I was coping that well with what life/fate had dealt us.


  2. Yes, the waiting can be more stressful than the actual departure. I fully understand sheldonk’s comment, and have witnessed the same with those living with dementia. It’s almost a case of losing a loved one twice over.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. That’s why it’s called the never ending grief. When the end finally comes, it is a mix of blessing, relief, release and – finally, an ability to truly grieve the loss. I have lost many family members to dementia and know the path so well.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. you have won aready with this poem, Ivor. And even if the reason is such a sad one like waiting to the end of a belovd, I want to interpretate in another way, if you allow. I concentrated on the question:
    “What would be if I had…”, a question that should be forbidden! Are we selfish and are these selfish sins, or cowardice to stand by our feelings and overcome the fear. Can we always serve the big great whole, or do we loose the power we could give, if we do ignoreour own needs? Your poems are deep and touching and you can only ponder about them but never solve them. Great poetry!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. that is very nice if you can laugh about yourself, because it means that you have overcome disappointments and pains. I’m experiencing my own teenage time with my daughter again. In every stage of life, you take your problems and feelings very seriously and importantly. The relation to the whole life and also the different perspectives are rarely noticed. It is also difficult, because you always define yourself in the present, in which something is and not in a retrospective whole picture. I hope I laugh a lot and loud about myself soon!

        Liked by 1 person

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