I’m trying to write myself a Mission Statement
Feels like a speech I need to practice in the basement
I’ve never been good at making speeches
They’re messy, like eating mushy soft peaches
When I first began writing poetry
My main aim was to teach myself to read and write again
Eighteen years ago this month, I suffered a Stroke
Times become tough, depression drowned this bloke
Poetry became my form of self therapy
I listened to music and inspirational lyrics
Leonard Cohen’s songs were always playing
I fervently keep writing
My life became a routine, centered around love
The love of caring for my wife, her MS was severe
Writing was my retreat, a place of solace
My world was narrow, I was skating on thin ice
Six years ago my wife did pass
My heart turned to water on glass
Then I heard Leonard singing again
His music and words were not in vain
I resumed writing my poems
Grieving, words were sad and solemn
Healing takes time
Soulfully I wrote more rhyme
I joined local writers groups
My words were out there, under readers boots
On a prompt, I started a website fifteen months ago
My confidence grew, I came in from the snow
Wondering what’s my goal, where do I go
There’s many answers I do not know
In the future, I believe a poetry book or two
I’ve volumes of poems, enough to fill my shoes
This is my story
My life’s journey
Of cloudy visions
My words, my mission
I used to care about tomorrow’s endings
Now I care about today’s beginnings.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018