The Oven Sky

The summer flowers have faded and gone

Wilting leaves, look like the devils blight

My Calendar declares Autumn is here

But it’s still summer in the city

Remaining hot and dusty, here on my plot

All the dogs are panting, searching for a cool block

Singed birds have refused to fly in the oven sky

Today’s furnace, is the night’s unwanted heater

Dry rot is crumbling, under the burning sun

Fat rain drops have forgotten their landing spots

And the drought smiles at us with disdain

As we gasp and wait for the cool change tonight

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Smell The Stench

I’m not going to say the day’s bloody hot

My sweat’s obviously real

As the ice in the fridge looks like molten steel

I’m not going to say the south pole’s defrosted

The public are screaming true

As the polar-cap’s sheer faces, drop like morning dew

I’m not going to say the air we breathe is polluted

The evidence blows right in front of you

As we smell the stench, it’s enough to make you spew

I’m not going to say politicians value money more than you

Their filled pockets are blatantly on view

As they corruptly succumb to greed of the chosen few

I’m going to rant and rave, even if it’s too hot

Losing my block, to stop this embellished rot

The heat is on them to cool off our plot

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Ivor Steven (c) 2019

Minding Cyndi Again

Here I am again, minding my furry friend Cyndi for the Weekend. It’s so hot outside, I.m afraid we are both confined to indoor activities.

20190301_211225 Cyndi on my bed last night …

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Cyndi watching me do my exercises……

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Cyndi watching me make breakfast…..

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Cyndi waiting for a piece of my breakfast….. she’s already been fed  !!

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Cyndi on the lounge with me……

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Cyndi in Lily’s old bed…. She doesn’t quite fit  !!  Watching me in my writers haven…..

As you can see, Cyndi is very busy and flat out keeping an eye on me !!

Cheers

Ivor And Cyndi , Woof woof….

A Heat Mirage

I’ve shut myself inside

The devil’s heat lays outside

The curtains are closed

Doors are locked

Who am I hiding from

I’m alone in my home

What am I keeping In

Can’t recall, the last time I sinned

I’ve already slept through the day

The day is passing away

Morning’s ghost has gone

Mid-afternoon and nothing’s done

It’s far too hot

To just sit here and rot

In my mind, what else to do

But think, about you

Ivor Steven (c) 2019