There’s a Penguin In My Courtyard

Today I was struggling for a title and the wording of my 2nd line, but after a chat with a friend of mine, a well known poet, who’s, “Living on the equator and longing for snow”. and she inadvertently inspired me, to come up with the title, and complete my second line….


There’s a Penguin In My Courtyard


my courtyards a frozen pond

cold enough for a penguin

shrouds of ice lay upon the ground

and a crisp sharpness cuts the sound

of the birds unthawed songs of silence

as fernery fronds curl in glaciated defiance

and in the corner there’s a frostbitten spider’s web

while frigidly rigid is the succulent flower bed

above there’s the sun’s ambient saffron disc

the dawn’s prediction that golden days do exist


Ivor Steven (c) June 2020

Promote Yourself Monday, June 29, 2020

Dear readers and followers, here’s a great opportunity for your writings to be read by other writers, and also to find and meet other writers. You are very welcome to participate, come along and visit our writer friendly site…..

Go Dog Go Café

Promote yourself Mon

Welcome to Promote Yourself Monday.  All Go Dog Go Cafe community members are invited to post one link to one specific piece of their writing (600 words or less please!) they have published on their blog, Facebook page, or Instagram feed into the comments section below.

If you post a link, be sure to read some of the other great writing people have linked to.

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My Scenic Saturday

The Weekend Challenge on Weekly Prompts is, Scenic. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking >> Here … Below is my photographic article in response to the prompt…

My Scenic Saturday


After writing my daily poem in the morning, I then pottered around in my courtyard garden, however my fingers were becoming frozen from the frosty dawn, and I decided to delay the potting, until after going out for my usual Saturday coffee and cafe visit, to the scenically rural Box Office Cafe. The above photos are from my lunchtime visit today. The winter sun was starting to warm me up, and on viewing my photos, you’ll understand, (maybe), why I frequent this quaint and rustic establishment….

It was definitely a lot warmer when I arrived home. Last week a friend of mine made me two wall hanging racks out old wooden pallets. I hung them up during the week, and today was my day to fill the two pallets with plants… The below photos, were taken after I finished the potting and planting…. and I’m very pleased with the gorgeous ”scenic” outlook of my small but vibrant courtyard…




Ivor Steven (c)  June 2020

Sharing the Sun

I’m waiting for Aine’s promise

On an outdoor setting of the Box Office

My open eyes don’t see lies

The white icing is only a disguise

Reality lays under the glossy lid

Hiding a secret taste of apple and fig

Together, we’re sharing the sun’s halo

A warm circle of iridescent yellow

Divinely shiny, fresh and mellow

A glorious treat for me to swallow


Aine- In Irish mythology, Áine, is the summer sun. Áine is the goddess of wealth, with power over crops and animals and she is sometimes represented by a red horse.



Ivor Steven (c)  June 2020

Lost, Without a Compass

Lost and isolated, without a compass

Below the dome of justice

Inside the great white shed

Behind faceless masks of dread

Hides a secret constitution misread

And under fire the penguin wears two heads


The curtain of the sacred temple

Has been torn down the middle

A shredded divide, created by design

The devils’ chasm, now cleverly enshrined



Ivor Steven (c)  June 2020

Our World, Air For Us All

I posted this poem yesterday evening, I’m republishing today, without the ‘Links/Pingbacks’…  and I’m adding another old ‘Bee Gees’ song “Words”, which seems to be appropriate for my poem here, which basically, is only ‘words’ from my pondering thoughts.



Our World, Air For Us All


What grows up

Eternally falls to ground

What’s absorbed in

Eventually seeps out


Did you hear the sound?

The world is round


But is the universe a square?

As we struggle to breathe in our share

Did you hear there’s enough air for us all?

So why cry before we’ve learnt how to crawl?




Ivor Steven (c)  June 2020

Lost In Space

Above, my bedroom space this morning….I’m also linking this poem to “Fae Corps Inc” for their ‘Indie Wednesday’ article, and you may visit their creative site by clicking >Here


Lost In Space


I’m leaving this land of lost grace

And flying off into space

It’s time to run-away

My airship left yesterday


Love is a stowaway in the heart

And love needs a head start

Somewhere in this universe

There’s love in the shepherd’s purse



Ivor Steven (c)  June 2020


Hills and Valleys

“There’s sweetness in the winter sunlight”  … Ivor Steven

This weekend the challenge on Weekly Prompts is; Dessert. …..Please go over and visit their fabulous site, by clicking >>Here.  My poem below is about the sweetness of waking up, after a moment of darkness, and the sudden realisation, that I’m still alive.. !!


Hills and Valleys


Far beyond the maddening crowds

Falling through the darkening clouds

My sacred message did arrive

And the neon sign said, “You’re safe and alive”


Again, I managed to survive

As my celestial angel glided by

Glowing upon the gilded wings of her dove

And loudly singing, she cried, “Don’t give up, my love”


Soaring above, she left me a feather

A quill to use, during my valley of rough weather

Her gentle persuasive reminder

To keep on writing, my own agenda


Life does matter, despite the hill’s jumbled mess

And there will be a deliverance from this jungle of stress



Ivor Steven (c)  June 2020

The Sun Arose Again, by Ivor Steven

A wonderful surprise for me this morning and a lovely pick-me-up, to find that my poem “The Sun Arose Again”, had been published at ‘Red Wolf Journal’, and thank you to the editor, Irene, for her kind consideration of my submission…

Red Wolf Journal

The Sun Arose Again
by Ivor Steven

There must be a number of silent masks around
Yesterday an old mask flew away at the speed of sound
From behind, the real pieces of what we perceive
Are leftover bones, bleached by sky and sea
Where the worn pebbles lingering in the hand
Fall gently upon lines drawn in the sand
And these new beginnings could be a heavenly gift
As white doves soar above the mourning cliffs

Perhaps the next awakening will be a peaceful one
Full of friendly compassion and wisdom
I’m lucky today, the sun arose again
To light up the hallway, despite the rain
I’ll be the first one to walk out the door
And the only one left here, to see her valour

Ivor Steven was formerly an Industrial Chemist, then a Plumber, and has been writing poetry for 19 years. He has had numerous poems…

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