These Days

Here comes one of those days

When my soul feels the light of hope within me

How could I ever forget those days

*Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me*

 

Now I bless the light

The spirit of those days within me

Forever your star of hope, glows so bright

Always there, shining down on me

 

Now I thank you for these days

The dance of glory you gave me

Remembering our world’s warm nights and joyful days

How could I forget, that blade of grass you gave me

That everlasting gift, walks with me every day

You’re in my heart every single day, believe me

 

*Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me* This line, is a line I’ve taken from the Ray Davies song “Days”, they are truly glorious words, and I could not write a better line to suit my poem, than this brilliant piece by Ray Davies….. so now sit back and enjoy his magnificent song…. “Days”

Ivor Steven (c) May 2020

A Mist Of Summer Kisses (Revised)

A Mist Of Summer Kisses

My heart was pulsating

Like a child’s first day at the beach

Excitedly wide eyed, a wondrous sight

A vast seaside water world

My lips tasted the sea air

My hips plunged into refreshing salt water

The waves were not too steep

The ocean was not too deep

I’m almost alive

I’m almost at home

Here at the Ocean Grove beach

Here in ecstasy, sun, sand and surf

The place where friends meet

The home of Tullawalla

The house where imagination began

The universe of my creative waves

Ivor Steven (c) Dec 2019

Another Nineteen Steps to the Top

Here’s a poem I wrote in February 2020, and our world is still needing more “Love”

Another Nineteen Steps to the Top


On a mountain top

I am a rock

A timeless clock

A window into nature’s lock

Understanding the life of trees

I share the knowledge within me

Be sunrise, or sunset of my disdain

My emotions of standing here in the rain

Flood the burning trees of my pain

Life will always be, pain or love

Our journey’s are ordained from above

Pain tests the depth of my love

Strength within my soul, is carried by my dove

Eternal is the saga of, pain and love

We never really owned it

We forgot how to extol it

We could not wear it

We’re naked without it

We need to restart, and resubmit

Ivor Steven (c)  Feb 2020

Upon The Highest Mountain. Lyrics, by ‘Lake of Tears’

I still dream of the mountains, where I used to be a king
King of all the outer realms, how I wish to return…

“Welcome back, my son, I have waited for a long time
Waited for the king to return, I have something to show you
Upon the highest mountain, way up by the horizon
Lies an ancient path, the path of the gods…”

I’ve climbed the mountains high
And walked among the clouds
I’ve reached the outer realms
Seen past the fields of wild-grown flowers

“Seek the opening of sanguine painted clouds
Carried gently upon caressing winds
There by the boundaries of seldom broken lines
Lies the way…”

These sanguine clouds I saw
Appear the heaven’s shore
Swept by the woken wind
Stray in the garden of tranquillity

“See through the many eyes of the dragonfly
Hear the flowers bloom in early spring
And see the lines of life untouched by time
Upon the way…”

All the stars are yours to hold
in your hands
All the stars are yours to share
with those there

Faerie choirs sing
And gently flap their wings
And by this creek so small
Gathered slowly, drinking unicorns

“Stray pilgrim, god to be
Stray wanderer, all these realms belong to thee”
“Stray pilgrim, god to be
Stray wanderer, all these realms belong to thee”
Small creatures coming near
Then turn to disappear
All while the faeries sing
Ode to waters, ode to the winds

“Stray pilgrim, god to be
Stray wanderer, all these realms belong to thee”

The path of the gods…

A White Wall, Whiter Than White (Re-whitewashed)

This Weekend on Weekly Prompts, it’s their first Colour Challenge of 2021 and appropriately they have chosen the colour: White. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking >> Here. My poem is a “Re-Whitewash from 2 years ago..

A White Wall, Whiter Than White

I’m lying here in my white-walled bedroom

My body’s been feeling white-hot

The white ceiling fan is cooling me down

Laying under only white sheets

Covering my white skin

This is not the White House

I don’t lie that much

I’ve not white false hair

So my white halo stays on

Without looking like a silly clown

Outside, my great side wall is white

The back courtyard is safe and secure

No non-whites can’t get in or out

Unless they desperately needed to

The great backyard wall

May be easily scaled

With a sturdy white ladder

I’m trumped, here in Australia

Walls don’t even keep out the flies

I’ve been reading my history books

The white walls built in the past

They have never lasted

Over they climbed

Or under they crawled

The walls were eaten by dust mites

Resilient as a feather duster

And pulled down by liberators, in disdain and shame

Ivor Steve (c)  2019

Today Brings Tomorrow (Revised)

I am a seventy year-old writer

Another new day has arisen

A new year’s ahead

A new beginning is born

Life could turn for the worse

Below loose rocks and tired verse

Or life could improve to be better

Accruing love letters and joining the jet-setters

I have weeks to grow wiser and stronger

I have months to ponder about my book of wonder

This new year I have gained a publishing sponsor

For my words I have written in her honour 



Ivor Steven (c) December 2020

Back Home

What a difference

Twenty four hours makes

I’m back, on this other side

Of the world

I woke up dreaming

In the southern hemisphere

Feeling inside out

And upside down

I’ve gone from a warm evening

To a freezing morning

I’ve travelled in time

And I’m struggling to find my rhyme

I left my new family behind

All so generous and kind

There’s many stories to be written

About that friendly new kitchen

Now I’m having breakfast alone

But here I am, home sweet home

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

It’s Time To Leave

 

 

It’s Time To Leave

 

It’s time to tidy up my mess

Clean up the room and get dressed

It’s time to pack my suitcase

Fill the travel bag and vacate this place

It’s time to put on my famous rocker shoes

And walk away from this dream come true

It’s time to say heartfelt goodbyes

To these wonderful Philadelphia guys

It’s time for final hugs and kisses

Sad farewells and best wishes

It’s time for my usual emotional tears

Separate myself from these every day cheers

It’s time to flyaway from a land of Dragons and fairies

Leave this magical world of faraway families

It’s time to say a million thank you’s

For making my stay a Really Real great do

It’s time for me to travel back home

With glorious memories of this mystical thunderdome

 

Ivor Steven (c)  May 2019

A Tune Of Success

On this weekend, a year ago, I was in the 4th week of my stay with my cousins in Philadelphia…. and I think my body was living on adrenaline……

 

A Tune Of Success

 

I’m sleeping in today

As I awake to a rainy Sunday

Cloudy, fat drops of grey

 

My body needs a rest

As a happy heart, pounds in my chest

Quietly, my soul beats a tune of success

 

I’m living in a hive of honey and bees

Covered by flowers and hugging trees

Once an injured mystery bird, now set free

 

 

Ivor Steven (c) 2019

Kingdom of Flowers

Remembering my wonderful trip to the magnificent “Longwood Gardens”, founded by Pierre S. du Pont, an hour west of Philadelphia, near Kennett Township. A day I shall never forget, especially with my two  fabulous cousins Terry and Maureen.

Kingdom of Flowers

I stood in His kingdom today

Of flowers and fragrances

Holding her colourful bouquet

Amazed by His stunning flower-bed

I gazed at heaven’s golden archway

Guarded by rows of leafy hedges

Underneath, lay edges of reds and blues

And soft petals of yellows and purples

I floated, from the ground cover shrubbery

To the canopy’s crested scenery

Where the horizon’s reflection

enchanted my eye

Sprinkling rainbows across His azure sky

 

 

Ivor Steven (c) 2019

I’m Just A Boy

On Tuesday 12th, it was ‘World Limerick Day’, and to celebrate the day I wrote this Limerick….. I do enjoy writing Limericks, but I don’t usually post them on my site, so while I’m taking a rest from serious writings/poems, I thought I’d present this one today.

 

I’m Just A Boy

 

There was a boy from Geelong

Who usually wore shorts and thongs

Winter fell from the hills

His ankles felt the chill

So woolly socks and beanie he did don

 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  May 2020