How Could You Not Love, An Everlasting Smile

 

 

Happy Birthday To My Smiling  Celestial Star

Bottom right photo, just 2 weeks before Carole passed, still smiling for everyone, despite her failing health and pain, extraordinarily inspirational lady, for all those who were fortunate enough to know her.

Everlasting Smile

 

My eyes, narrowly cracked.

My cheeks, slightly etched.

I rest here, retracing every mile.

Remembering, your everlasting smile.

My lips, already dry.

My tongue, trying to say goodbye.

I wonder, was it all worthwhile.

Remembering, your loneliest smile.

My throat, lumpy and sore.

My chest, heavy as never before.

I look back, recalling your life-style.

Remembering, your younger smile.

My lungs, empty and tight.

My legs, weak and light.

I relive, your personal exile.

Remembering, your generous smile.

My head, spinning from fright.

My heart, deep and out of sight.

I sleep alone, crying like a child.

Remembering, your everlasting smile.

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Under The Snow

A special poem I wrote, after I’d taken my Lady to hospital for the last time, on the day of her last birthday. Happy Birthday Carole, and I wonder if you still wonder that I wonder.

Under The Snow.

 

We emanate to a birthday.

We deflate to a final day.

Birthdays, they all come, they all go.

Birthdays, in the sunshine, under the snow.

Birthdays, slow to mature, quickly an aeon.

Birthdays, before we are born, after we are gone.

Birthdays, hanging on by a breath.

Birthdays, nailed to a cross ’til death.

What’s it all mean to be alive and cry.

What’s it all mean to live and to die.

 

Ivor Steven. (c)  2018

Tit Bits #3

My darkest past

lives within

my brightest cast,

life’s new day is my win.

 

I’m back to reality

a speck in the crowd,

writing about my journey,

dreaming aloud.

 

Dreamtime

is the best time.

 

Giving my heart away

an endless risk

enduring my every day,

an everlasting kiss

caresses my stay,

do you feel my bliss.

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Reading On Deck And Ashore

I’m reclining on poolside deck

reading Brendan Ryan’s book*

observing fellow passengers

strolling past, some bustle along,

others meander by,

gazing around and carefree

relaxed, soaking in tropical sunshine

they all smile and say Hi

Penelope and her mother Dianne

stop for a chat

we agree, a nice place to sit

meet friends made on this ship.

 

We’re in port, at Lifou Island

Tenders take us ashore

I’ve Robert Okaji’s book** in hand

to read while laying on pure white sand,

another glorious day on the beach

the air is warm and humid

a pleasant cool breeze

wisps across my brow

 

*, **, Book covers below.

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Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Circumference

As far as the eye can see

an endless horizon surrounds me

encircling the dark blue ocean

waving to a pastel aqua sky

 

I turn to port-side

my tangent shadow follows

I walk to forward

my world is full, rippling white caps

I stand on aft

my view is an edgeless rim

a vast rolling sea

as far as the eye can see

 

Above is our universes dome

lingering clouds of chrome

casually floating by

sunshine appears to fly

changing the Pacific’s hue

cobalt to royal blue

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Ivor Steven (c) 2018

Cruising

Meet Donna, the gorgeous waitress who seems to know my drinking 🍻 habits already, and she makes sure that my fluid intake is maintained for this warm weather. Ivor meets Diana and her friends, and more poems are recited. Below some words from Leonard Cohen’s poem “All My News” from his book “Book Of Longing” 3. “Do not decode These cries of mine They are the road and not the sign Nor deconstruct my drugless high I’m sober but I like to fly Then quickened with my open talk You need not pick the ancient lock” His words seemed wonderfully appropriate as my holiday continues to blossom. 😊

Monday Cruising The Pacific

My 6.30am walk around the deck. Breathing the purity of the sea air. I’m completely in awe of mother nature’s vast blue carpet and sparkling white caps, and an endless horizon that encircles our voyage. Ivor being Ivor, I’ve met and chatted to lots of happy fellow passengers, and I’ve been reciting my poems to any willing to listen to my words. “there’s Ivor our Poet friend”.