Cascading Snow-flakes

A morning blizzard of hailstones

Smothers my old frozen bones

Polarised, I’m shivering head to spine

Chilling my chasms of hard lines


Daily coldness unwrapping

Mid-morning thawing, eventually happening

Melting, my eternal iceberg breaks

Into an avalanche of cascading snow-flakes


Covering me in a white blanket of crystal firestones

Gradually warming my lonesome bones

Turning my purple blood into glowing red

Clearing heavy fogginess from my head.

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.

40 thoughts on “Cascading Snow-flakes”

    1. I’m a great fan of David Francey’s music, he’s a great singer/songwriter from Canada 🍁, and my poem was inspired by our freezing cold weather here in Geelong this week β„οΈβ„οΈπŸ˜Š

      Liked by 2 people

  1. That song is wonderful!
    And your poem is even more wonderful! Your descriptive words paint pictures in my mind and get my senses involved!
    Cold snowy days make me feel alive! But, am always grateful when the sun beams down on my face! πŸ™‚
    HUGS!!! πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes it’s a cold poem, and there were a few underlying thoughts I was trying to express. My life has been inundated with tough times, and I’m eventually starting to warm up again and seeing my life ahead of me a little clearer now. xxx

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I’m so glad to hear that!
        Yes, our lives and our emotional journeys can be like the seasons in nature. I feel like if we can hang on during the cold “winter” times we will see the “summer” again. πŸ™‚ I know in my life the cold “winter” stuff has helped me appreciate the “summer” more. πŸ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

  2. you know ice can scald as hot as fire can? it is exemplified in your poetry today Ivor. snow makes me feel warm inside, don’t ask why it just does, i love the cold, love reading about the cold. and I loved this one more than all of yours i have ever read, there’s something else going on i can’t put my finger on…hmm maybe i am afraid i may get burned!! p/s: i survived massive hailstones in Auckland and Sydney, it was an amazing experience!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh Gina, your love of the cold sends a chill down my spine πŸ˜…πŸ˜‰. You’re right though, my is a layered one,… it’s simply about tough life I’ve endured, and I’m thinking I’m eventually starting to see myself participating in the real world, I’m thawing out, and accepting this warmth I’m gradually feeling within, and

      Liked by 2 people

  3. Oh dear, that cold eh? Officially first day of Autumn here and it was a warm sunny day, but I won’t hold my breath. Good news for you coming soon, because as we get cooler you will get much much warmer! πŸ™‚

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Good morning Sue (8.20am here), yes it’s spring time, but still feeling like winter ❄️❄️. Actually I used the coldness metaphorically in my poem, I’m writing about myself eventually coming to realise that I’m feeling the warmth of life again, accepting that I’ve gradually recovered from having a frozen soul for so long, and now knowing I’m back to being comfortable with myself and happy with the life I’m living. 😊 😊 ❀️

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I’ve been a fan of David Francey’s for ages, he has a great earthy voice, which suits his country/folk music and lyrics., and I’m listening to him now…..


    1. Yes it is my picture, taken through my car windscreen during a hail-storm. Had to pull over to side of the road for an hour til it passed, β„οΈπŸŒ§οΈβ›ˆοΈ


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