Annual Blogmas Contest!

Dear readers, a lovely Christmas promotion/contest from Kaylaannauthor, have a read, and maybe you would like to join in too.


Yep, I might be insane.

I might not have thought this through.

I have 102 things to do!

But no matter, I want to hear from you!

The Annual Blogmas Contest Starts Today!

 May the best Blogmas Blogger win!

How to enter:

  • Create a blogmas post!Your post must be all about Christmas, see my previous post on “How To Blogmas”
  • Once you have created and published your post, drop your link to that post below in the comments. ALSO, this is important, do NOT just drop the link by itself (it will go directly to my spam), so you must also leave a one-line summary of your blogmas post 😀
  • Check out at least two other blogmas posts and comment beneath their links so I can see that you did so (#community)
  • You can only drop ONE LINK, so if you want to wait until Dec 25th to…

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Odds And Ends, I’m So Tired


There is shame

There is blame

That we need to tame

To love our own name

Day And Night

There’s dark, then light

Like there’s day and night

Sunrise and sunset

Like there’s life and regrets

Life ebbs and flows

Life comes and goes

There’s reality, then dreams

Life’s mixture of honey and cream

Sticky and sweet

Like every heart-beat


Sometimes I’ve very little

Left in me to deal

Sometimes having very little

Of me, is very real

Sometimes we need a little boost

To be able to heal

Sometimes your words are enough

For me to see and feel

Here And There

Looking up at night-sky everywhere

I imagine being lost in here and there

Picking blue stars for us to wear

A Kiss

“I promise, your kiss I won’t fight”

I shall silently listen tonight

And dream of your delight

A blissful kiss, soft and light



Ivor Steven (c)  2018


An Epic Love – A Poem by Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet

I’m honoured and humbled, by this glorious poem written by my dear friend Walt, The Tennessee Poet, please have a look at some of his down to earth poems.

Walt's Writings

This is dedicated to my dear friend and brother in poetry,
Ivor.Plumber/Poet. Ivor lost the love of his life Carole a few
years ago after she lost her battle with severe MS for
over 30 years. Ivor was Carole’s primary caregiver during
her illness and most of his poetry has been about her.
Please visit Ivor’s blog at

He misses her so much
His heart feels like it’s breaking
Everything he does
Everywhere he goes
Reminds him of her
He lives in a house of memories
And wonders when his pain will end
So many years together
Caring for each other
Caring for her as her illness worsened
As he sits alone now with his memories
Everything he does
Reminds him of her
So he turns to his writing
And picks up his pen
He knows she is watching
From Heaven above
And the words flow like love notes

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Mystic Man

I’m digging a tunnel

With my ball and chain

Underneath the great wall

Towards the east side of the moon

Away from these wasted days

Beyond the drain of pain

My eyes search for a light

Through my grotto’s ceiling crack

Resolutely my heart yells at me

“There’s no turning back”

Fingers are bloodied

Toes are blistered

My throat is parched

Lips are sweat covered with dirt

I’m desperate for the evening rain

And a cooling breeze

Fresh upon my old crusty skin

I’m to meet a mystic Arab

Cloaked in cloth of indigo blue

He’s been sent by Muhammad to save me

Burst me free, and find my lost kin

Day Lily And Love

I’m going for a procedure this morning, a bronchoscopy, an examination of my lungs. Hopefully they’ll have some good results for me, and I’m able to go home soon, so I can tend to my Day Lily.

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.

“Villanelle For Our Time”

“Villanelle For Our Time”
Dear readers, if you are inclined, please read this magnificent piece, written by Leonard Cohen, a truly inspiring poem, displaying all of his brilliant craftsmanship.

From bitter searching of the heart,
Quickened with passion and with pain
We rise to play a greater part.
This is the faith from which we start:
Men shall know commonwealth again
From bitter searching of the heart.
We loved the easy and the smart,
But now, with keener hand and brain,
We rise to play a greater part.
The lesser loyalties depart,
And neither race nor creed remain
From bitter searching of the heart.
Not steering by the venal chart
That tricked the mass for private gain,
We rise to play a greater part.
Reshaping narrow law and art
Whose symbols are the millions slain,
From bitter searching of the heart
We rise to play a greater part.

Pumpkin Soup Again

Damn, and double Ouchie, !! Dear readers, this is the best I can do today, re-post an old poem, from the last time I had an occipital neuralgia flare up. My world is blurry, my eyes are sore, and my brain is going to explode… soon. Sorry this is all too hard for me….

Head’s falling like an unpinned grenade

Soon ready to explode

Burying shrapnel pieces in corners of shade

Scattered like broken retina globes

Razor blades shredding memory lockets

Slivered icicles inside blurry sockets

Needles of pain

Sheets of sleet before the rain

Bloodied eyeball tracks like meteor trails

And the pain numbing capsules do fail

Oh please, blindly needing to set sail

Upon swirling Oceans, like Homer’s tales


Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Image: digitalartrocks