Throwback Friday, A Voice in the Mist, by Ivor Steven

I found this old poem in a dusty foolscap folder under a pile of “stuff” I was tidying up … maybe from 15 years …

Go Dog Go Café

Today’s poem is one that I have not published on my web/blog site, and I am not sure when I first wrote the original words. Up until now, this a piece that has been filed away in a foolscap folder.

A Voice in the Mist

The moon’s my patriarch

My dream, glowing in the dark

She’s a vision, no feel, no mound

Only a voice, without sound

A distant shining, so forlorn

My heartache until dawn

She’s a pillow, no caress, no kiss

Only a voice, from beyond the mist

Ivor Steven (c) July 2022

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…

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Today’s Fragments

Below; I have formed one poem out of four Haiku that I wrote this morning, and I have many fractured thoughts within my soul today, a decade after Carole’s passing on May 3rd 2012 at 1.15pm …

Today’s Fragments
(A four Haiku poem)

I am who I am
I can’t use another tram 
She’s my hologram

I sit beside her 
Next to yesterday’s campfire 
Candles in the wind 

A red flame flickers 
Under her celestial star 
My eternal light  

On my island home 
Winds blow from across the sea 
Completion awaits 

Ivor Steven (c) May 3rd 2022

‘Til Death Do Us Part

Back on the 2nd of May 2012, I thought this poem was going to be the last piece I would ever write … finality for my wife was near, and my mind was adrift on the horizon. … little did I know, that in few months time, her spirit and enthusiasm for life, would become the inspirational source for the revival of my poetry writings, and now a decade later “Carole’s” amazing zest for life, still influences my every thought behind the words I write …

‘Til Death Do Us Part

She’s there, in that tall pale building of brick.

Where the Nightingales care and tend to the sick.

She’s there, away from home and her comforting bed.

Where the Doctors try to fix the endless ills from her head.

She’s there, and her absence reminds me of future plights.

Where my anxieties for her her well being endure her fight.

She’s there, and I need to visit her all day, and every night.

Where the distance to reach her soul is out of sight.

She’s there, and I’m wondering about that far away dome.

Where her lost personal affection would leave her all alone.

She’s there, in those misty clouds, with church bells ringing.

Where she’s near to the sombre sounds of angels singing.

She’s there, and her constant pain remains tight in my heart.

Now I’m convinced, just like I said at the very start.

There’s no place like home for her gathering dark.

And I promise to her again, ‘til death do us part.

Ivor Steven (c) May 2nd 2022

Did Your Heart Stop Too?

Ten years ago today, it was the “Time” that I made a “heart stopping decision”

Did Your Heart Stop Too?

Did you cry too?

When the doctors told you

She was not going to recover

Did they ask you too?

About what you already knew

It was time

To flick the switch

And dim her light

Did your heart stop too?


You had emptied her shoes

Did you sleep there too?

During those infinite days of blue

Softly holding her hand

And not letting go

Did you weep too?

Blankly alone

In her full room


For her last silent breath

Ivor Steven (c) April 27th 2022

Love is Not Declined 


My internal battle is never ending  

Neither won nor lost 

My opponent is my ghost 

I forgive with the morning dew 

And my regrets are few 

There is two breaths in every moment  

The first one kisses our heart 

The second breath caresses our soul


True love is hard to find  

And impossible to define 

When found, be exceedingly kind 

Love can spellbind your mind 

But blindly, love is not declined 

Ivor Steven (c) February 2022

Any Afternoon

Mid afternoon

Here in my empty room

Between unruffled sheets

With the curtains drawn

I remember our matinee’s

Of laughter and soft sighs

You would tickle my feet

As I caressed your naked thighs

Tomorrow afternoon

There in my lonely room

Between unruffled sheets

The curtain falls at my feet

Ivor Steven (c) February 2022

Words to You

I wrote to you

You wrote to me

Your words turned to scrawl

Eyes began to call

A crack crept down the wall

You stood on the rubble so tall

We let the dust settle

Heated up the Kettle

Had a cuppa and a silent chat

Light flows back, through the crack

Words were our pearls

Writing is my world

Ivor Steven (c) February 2022

We Are Strange

A special mention and thank you to Ingrid, for being the source of my inspiration behind my words today, with her very intriguing poem “Reclusive Romance”, you can visit her fabulous site by clicking on this link >>

We Are Strange

how high is the sky?

how warm is the air?

how strong is wind?

can we fly without?

celestial wings

how deep is the river?

how cold is the water?

how strong is the current?

why do we always need?

a search warrant

why do we still jump in?

why do we still try to swim?

do we want to know?

the answers

Ivor Steven (c) November 2021