It’s the Same Old Blanket

Here in the cemetery

Among her guardian faeries

I kneel with flowers in hand

Wearing a mask and feeling bland

You cannot see my smile

Under my new covering style



Do not be alarmed, I’m no bandit

See under my arm, it’s the same old blanket

That I use to sit down beside you

Where I stay and ramble on about us two

I have two glasses and a bottle of red

For a toast to us, to when next we will be wed



Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2020

Published by

ivor20

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.

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