Pakington Street

These sore ageing feet

Have been pounding the beat

Up and down, picturesque Pakington Street

Worn out soles are feeling the heat

This old soul has stopped for a sandwich to eat

Up beyond West Park, they’ll be a comfy seat

And a refreshing drink of chai latte and sweets

At the Depot Cafe, quaint and neat

A satisfying lunch, now I’m replete

Relaxed, and exercise complete


A few more pictures from my walk up and down, Pakington Street.




Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Pushing Yorkie Higher

Struggling with a shaky pen stroke

I’ve lost secret words, I wrote

An ill wind, sent them flying out the door

Misread and missing a music score

Scrawled along lines of my crooked path

Curling up, and falling in the draft

Sinking into a world I cannot see

An impossible mission for you and me

Crossing hostile foreign lands

Walking through deserts on my hands

Swimming turbulent oceans

Climbing jagged snowy mountains

Pushing on my bike, higher than high

Soaring over dark cloudy skies

Until finally, I found where dreams die

On her heavenly garden seat, she lies

Ivor Steven (c) 2019

Beyond The Brick Wall

My time’s feeling lost and unrequired

Yesterday, I was worn and tired

Today, I did reach for the sky

Tomorrow, I’ll give life another try

Yesterday, I hit the brick wall

Today, I jumped every puddle

Tomorrow, hurdles will be castles in the sand

Everyday, my unknown future lays in my hands

Every-week, my dream looks like potter’s clay

Today, I uncovered tomorrow is the next day

Tomorrow, is not my vision of times to come

Tomorrow, is the beginning of my shining sun


Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Calmness On The Bay

There’s a serene tranquil calmness

Hovering over this panoramic bay

The cloudy sky’s silkily reflected

Upon it’s benign smooth waters

The shoreline’s fresh-air is gently cool

Creating a peaceful atmosphere of awe and wonder

Impressing local onlookers and tourist alike

Beholding a picturesque, enchanting balminess

Soothing to all those enraptured souls

Fortunate to view the waterfronts afternoon artistry

Blue Yonder: By David Francey, Lyrics

Here on the ground
It’s a long way down
To the land down under
And all I want to do
Is ride into the blue yonder
Id’ beep in the sky
And I’d be higher than high
And it’s no wonder
That all I want to do
Is ride into the blue yonder
Into the blue yonder
Into the blue yonder
All I want to do
Is ride into the blue yonder
I’d be up in the clouds
And I’d be laughing out loud
With the world to wander
And all I want to do
Is ride into the blue yonder
I’ll be into the blue
And I’ll be gone and through
And I’ll be out from under
And all I want to do
Is ride into the blue yonder
Into the blue yonder

Into the blue yonder

All I want to do

Is ride into the blue yonder

Ivor Steven (c) 2019

A Picture Story

Every picture tells a story

I will not show the bloody war pictures

No need to add to the gruesome tale

Everybody knows the score

Our leaders know, how many were lost at war

Instead, I’ve a different photo, of a tablecloth

A wedding gift of my parents

Now my family heirloom

Aged over seventy years old

Embroidered Peacocks on fine linen

I wonder how often the tablecloth has been used

Not as many times as nuclear bombs have been fused

How many people have sat around the tablecloth and eaten

Not as many people as the war’s have maimed and beaten

Ask world politicians and know-all dictators

They’ll all know the forgotten bloody score

That’s my enduring tablecloth picture story

Same old hidden facts of hell and rancid glory


Ivor Steven (c)  2019


Day Lily And Love

Hello readers, I’m posting a poem I wrote last year, about my lovely Day Lily, which is actually a former plant of my father’s, so really I’ve lovingly inherited the flower, and I’m always pleased to see it bloom. I’m not sure why, but it’s flowering 4 weeks earlier than last year.

Upon my pillow I sleep

Good morning, I do peek

From the cushion of my dreams

A pads radiating beams

Blushing red hues, oh so bright

You bloom during the night

After cuddling the dew

You open up your scenic view.

Flowering, standing proud and steep

Perfection at my feet

A glorious Lily, like wings of a dove

And by Day you air your love

Ivor Steven (c) 2018.

Swallowed By The Sun

I’ve re-posted this poem, on “Go Dog Go Cafe” via their site’s wonderful idea of “Promote Yourself Monday” , and I’d like to thank Michelle, for giving me this fantastic opportunity to present my poem, Swallowed By The Sun, Please Click >> Here  to read about Go Dog Go Cafe ….

On a fiery hot suburban street

Cobblestones are burning the crowds feet

Bursting blisters, on the ignorant

Touching souls, of the innocent

Solar heat’s scorching from the sky

Our world is being swallowed by the sun

Oh, what have us human’s done

All the rivers are running dry

Fish lay on barren land, waiting to die

Polar icebergs are often seen gliding by

Penguins are moaning without their icy slide

And you’ll hear the groan of baby whales cry

As the ocean, sadly waves us goodbye

Knowing our angels wings are singed and cannot fly

Old mother earth is quickly growing awry

And father time is forever asking why


Ivor Steven (c) 2019