A Courtyard Of Dreams

Hello readers, I’m able to do a bit of copy and pasting, without straining or tiring myself out.. enjoy…

A Courtyard Of Dreams


Children can be childish, resistant and defiant

Adults can be childish, arrogant and ignorant


I’ll keep my old heels on the ground

While I’m able to see the difference

Between blue, green and brown


With love, there comes hidden trials of hurt

With denial of love, there’s only dust and dirt


A heart’s love, is true tenderness

Do not wait for tomorrow

There will not always be, that life’s sweetness

One day your soul, will know true sorrow



Moving On, by Leonard Cohen:  Lyrics

“Moving On”

 “I loved your face I loved your hair
Your t-shirts and your evening-wear
As for the world the job the war
I ditched them all to love you more

And now you’re gone, now you’re gone
As if there ever was a you
Who broke the heart and made it new?
Who’s moving on, who’s kiddin’ who?

I loved your moods I love the way
They threaten every single day
Your beauty ruled me though I knew
Twas more hormonal that the view

Now you’re gone, now you’re gone
As if there ever was a you
Queen of lilac, queen of blue
Who’s moving on, who’s kiddin’ who?

I loved your face I loved your hair
Your t-shirts and your evening-wear
As for the world the job the war
I ditched them all to love you more

And now you’re gone, now you’re gone
As if there ever was a you
Who held me dyin’ pulled me through
Who’s moving on, who’s kiddin’ who?

Who’s moving on, who’s kiddin’ who?”


Ivor Steven (c)  Nov 2019


Glass Slippers and a Yellow Taxi

Last night, I misplaced my glass slippers

When the golden chariot, turned into a yellow taxi

And I had no faerie godmother to guide me

She was riding her whale, and had drifted out to sea


My recital evening, wandered through crystal glee

Recalling live music, and chalices of cheer

The singer Tennyson, finished and noticed me

After a warm handshake, we talked about being free

And discovered, we mutually liked the band ‘Dirty Three’

Then I exchanged, a Tullawalla poetry booklet, for his CD


Thank you to Tennyson King and his bass guitarist James, for giving of their time, and being genuinely friendly. During our conversation, I found out he’s a Canadian, from Toronto, on a 3 month tour of Australia.


And below a song from ‘Dirty Three’, that maybe I’ve not posted here before…

Ivor Steven (c)  Nov 2019

Mosquitoes and Bees

Feature Image: My photo of, Barbara Roe Hebb’s, sculpture, “Pollen Pals”, at the Geelong Sculptors Inc. Annual Exhibition, 101 Ryrie Street, Geelong, where the theme of the exhibition was, ‘Who’s Your Muse’, and I’m presenting this poem for the writers part of the event, tomorrow afternoon.



Mosquitoes and Bees 


I was asked the question, “who’s your muse”

My mind flew into overdrive, now I’ll have to chose

Years ago the answer would have been, my Queen

The lady who was always in my dreams

Living longer than her, altered my life’s mission

Spending time alone, enlightened my vision

Mindful thoughts were constantly buzzing

I’d learnt enough to know, this world’s not humming


Nature’s lifeblood, mosquitoes, bees

And the air we breath, sheltered by life giving trees

Are the persecuted convicts of corporate greed

Leaving us, the planet’s custodians, begging on our knees

The bees pollinating wings, have been broken

And purifying forests, have been stolen

It’s time, to dismount the angel’s white ponies

And ask my muse Melpomene, please save earth’s colonies




Time Jesum Transeuntum et Non Riverentum, Lyrics

Nick Cave, Dirty Three

We were called to the forest
And we went down
A wind wind blew warm and eloquent

We were searching for the secrets of the universe
We rounded up demons and forced them
To tell us what it all meant

We tied them to trees
And broke them down, one by one
On a scrap of paper they wrote these words

(And as we read them, the sun broke
Through the trees)

Dread the passage of jesus, for he will not return
Then we headed back to our world
And left the forest behind
Our hearts singing with all the knowledge of love

But somewhere, somehow, we lost the message
Along the way
And when we got home, we bought ourselves a house

And we bought a car that we did not use
And we bought a cage,and two singing birds
And at night we’d sit and listen to the canary song

For we’d both run right out of words
Now the stars they are all angled wrong
And the sun and the moon refuse to burn

But I remember a message
In a demon’s hand

Dread the passage of jesus, for he does not return
He does not return
He does not return

Ivor Steven (c) October 2019

The Last Chicane



The Last Chicane


I’ve been climbing every rung

Even the broken ones unsung

I’ve played every sad song

Even when the words were wrong


I felt my bird fly away

Even though her nest stays here today

I’ve praised my swan’s eternal flight

Even through the hardest fights


I’m listening to the bells chiming

Even above lyrics that aren’t rhyming

I’m beginning to flutter my wings again

Even after missing the last chicane

I’m preparing for the next equestrian

Even tasting potions of bubbling champagne


Ivor Steven (c)  October 2019

A Day At Eastern Beach

Hello dear readers, and dear Sue(Nan’s Farm-Inside Out)…. here I am on the beach, yeah !! yes a long 18 months since I’ve been able to feel the warm sand between my toes…. not hot enough for swim yet, but I could smell the fresh sea air…… In my excitement I took all of these photos (and More). The sun was shining and it was a pleasant 23’C.

Eastern Beach, on Corio Bay                             The Geelong Yacht Club

Ivor with the famous Bollards**                         More of the sculptured Bollards**

The enclosed beach area within the perimeter of the promenade

Some views as I was walking around the promenade

The salt-water pool, where Ivor learnt to swim (55 years ago)

Yachts on Corio Bay                                               Steps and fountain down to the beach

The children’s pool area

The lush lawn expanses at the beach                Looking back to the Geelong City centre

I hope you all enjoyed viewing these photos, as much as I enjoyed my outing to the beach on this a memorable day for me…….


**Jan Mitchell’s Waterfront Bollards

No visitor to Geelong’s magnificent waterfront precinct can miss the whimsical bollards that stretch from Rippleside to Limeburners Point. Painted by local artist Jan Mitchell, the bollards have become an icon of Geelong. Sadly Jan is no longer with us but she has left a lasting legacy which will put a smile on just about anyone who comes face to face with these unique and much loved pieces of public art.



Ivor Steven (c)  October 2019