Come Healing

The lyrics of this song “Come Healing” are so beautifully poignant for all of us who are in the process of healing, and attached here my poem Mango Smoothie, was also about healing.                      https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/03/12/mango-smoothie/

Come Healing

O gather up the brokenness
And bring it to me now
The fragrance of those promises
You never dared to vow

The splinters that you carry
The cross you left behind
Come healing of the body
Come healing of the mind

And let the heavens hear it
The penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit
Come healing of the limb

Behold the gates of mercy
In arbitrary space
And none of us deserving
The cruelty or the grace

O solitude of longing
Where love has been confined
Come healing of the body
Come healing of the mind

O see the darkness yielding
That tore the light apart
Come healing of the reason
Come healing of the heart

O troubled dust concealing
An undivided love
The heart beneath is teaching
To the broken heart above

Let the heavens falter
Let the earth proclaim
Come healing of the altar
Come healing of the name

O longing of the branches
To lift the little bud
O longing of the arteries
To purify the blood

And let the heavens hear it
The penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit
Come healing of the limb

O let the heavens hear it
The penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit
Come healing of the limb

My finale stanza from my poem “Mango Smoothie”, the words are all part of my healing process, and I’m now feeling quite comfortable within myself on these days of reflection.

I’m a healer who’s lost

Gravitated by her sorrow

How do I catch a falling arrow

And mend her broken cross

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Blind And Unkind

What are you leaders fighting for

What happens when all the trees are gone

What do your empty heads actually see

Do you have sack-clothes covering your eyes***

Do you have a finger stuck in your noses***

Do you know the smell of life or death***

Where’s your collective greed going to

Where’s your silent mouths and ears

Where’s the air we breathe

What are you world rulers doing to our land

What happens when the oceans are poison

What do you egotists sip on

Why are you deaf dumb and blind

Why are you arrogant and unkind

Why are you ignoring the future of mankind

 

*** Thank you to dear Stella of  https://stellabailey.wordpress.com  for letting me use some of her fancy words

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Brave

This is a very old poem of mine, and the poem’s words appeared in my dream-time last night, so I’ve dragged the verse out of my archives, and I’ve rewritten it in present tense. The original title was “With All Her Might”, but I think “Brave” suits Her better now. xx

She had a glorious smile everyday

Despite her painful stay

She tried with all her might

Oh, what a brave fight

 

She relied on us all, to fill her days

Caring for her different ways

She helped with all her might

Oh, what a courageous sight

 

She rested, unable to relate

Comfy in her sorry state

She sighed with all her might

Oh, what a sombre plight

 

She never complained about her fate

Carried our worry weight

She defied destiny with all her might

Oh, what an endless night

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

 

Vaults And Bookcases

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To keep celebrating my first year of blogging, I’m reposting this poem from June 21st 2017. The actual bookcase (the picture below) was made by dear grandfather, for my 18th Birthday (1969), it stands behind me here in my writing haven, and the beautifully crafted piece is one of most treasured possessions, and a loving reminder of my Poppy.

Vaults And Bookcases

A cool Sunday morning, wearing old brown slippers and warm bedclothes

Looking through my window, and hearing crows singing, I suppose

Sitting here on borrowed chairs, at a homemade table, built by dad

Listening to my music of sorrow, ballads of truth, voices humming so sad

The tunes vibrating softly, from my brothers equipment, quietly in tempo with my pulse

Staring at the tall wooden bookcase, displaying visions from my deepest vaults

The dusty shelves, lined with personal photos, whom I’ve lost and found over the years

Mostly pictures of her, now departed for a while, always engulfing my many fears

And images of family and friends, but they’re all smiling as if nothings wrong

Oh how we mysteriously grin, for that camera pointed at our souls of song

There’s memorabilia, and her little trinkets, all reflecting on my hidden veneer

And unopened dry red wines, dotting the racks, like mirrors of yesteryear

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Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Tit Bits #11

My efforts to beat failures go amiss

Someone keeps moving the goal-posts into the mist

I’m misunderstanding what I need to know

I understand what I already Know

I’m misunderstanding why they throw the stones

I understand the hurt of being hit by sharp stones

There’s a loud cheer from the crowd

But who’s listening to my silence now

Silence is deafening

My heart missed a beat

Waiting times are beckoning

My message replete

Telling myself it’s fine to have empty days

I smile to myself, at my misty eyes

They’re welcome emotions now-days

Swelling my heart in forgiving ways

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Freckles And Dark Hair

Weekly Prompts – Your second chance to be creative

This weeks word prompt, Hybrid

 

I’m of mixed origin

Am I a hybrid

An off-spring of my parents

Dad was a red-head with freckles

From Tasmania, a convicts great-grandson

Mum had dark hair and olive skin

A German and Scottish background

She was born in Penang Malaysia

They were worlds apart

The great war shaped their paths

Time and peace brought them together

I’m their hybrid, freckles and dark hair

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Natures Decor

A fernery I’ve built

My place of serenity and relaxation

A display of natures décor

Tree ferns from the forest

Silver Lady and Leatherleaf ferns

Creating a bower garden

Of magical colours

Deep purple, emerald and gold

 

The stunning glossy Xanadu

Stands protecting

Graceful stems of my plant called Hope

And the smiling Mona Lavender

The small Zebrina waves gently in the breeze

Caressing the glowing metallic Burgundy Lace

The princess of my fernery watches from above

She’s a radiant red Dragon Wing Begonia

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018