Cloudy Visions

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