Shrines (Revised)

Hi dear friends, and followers, I’ve revised this poem slightly and also added two extra lines (Lines 13 & 14), and I’ve decide to present, “Shrines” to my writers group tomorrow (Thursday) to coincide with the theme/prompt of the day, – ‘Feet scuffled through the autumn leaves.’ I hope you enjoy the changes

Shrines (Revised)

Home is where the welcome mat is my word

Where my music can always be heard

Home is where my garden flowers blossom

Where the bower birds sing their anthem

Home is where you can call me anytime

Where my long road ends at the stop sign

Home is where I want to hold your hand

Where I can draw a line in the sand

Home is where I need to lay in my bed

Where I can finally rest my weary head

Home is where the roof shelters me and the dog

Where the walls keep out my oncoming fog

Home is where autumn leaves die and fall

Where I can scuff my feet on nature’s soil

Home is where the moonshine shuffles into sunshine

And where my new days morph into shrines

 

Ivor Steven (c)  August 2019

Shrines

Hi dear friends, I’m home after a funeral and wake today, of my friend and work mate, Alex. This old poem of mine is dedicated you, a gentleman, sadly gone to soon………

Shrines

Home is where the welcome mat is my word
Where my music can always be heard
Home is where my garden flowers blossom
Where the bower birds sing their anthem
Home is where you can call me anytime
Where my long highway ends at the stop sign
Home is where I want to hold your hand
Where I can draw a line in the sand
Home is where I need to lay in my bed
Where I can rest my weary head
Home is where my verandah shelters me and the dog
Where the walls keep out my oncoming fog
Home is where the moonshine shuffles into sunshine
Where my new days morph into shrines

Sean Rowe: Signs.  Lyrics

There were songs in the trees
There were signs all around me
There was a band playing softly as the day was slowly dying
I put my hand inside
I pulled a green stone from my pocket and I watched it glow
I heard a train go by then I thought of you

I saw you in a dream
You were wearing my sorrow
I begged you to stay but it was eternally tomorrow

I put my hand inside
I pulled a green stone from my pocket and I watched it glow
I heard a train go by then I thought of you

Wake me, take me up from the ashes
And I will fly like I’m supposed to fly
Touch me, tell me
When the sky came down and you left the ground
Why you never said goodbye

I want to live in your house
This is not my room it’s just a cold hotel
I want to stay in this dream until I believe
I put my hand inside
I pulled a green stone from my pocket and I watched it glow
I heard a train go by then I thought of you

I’m getting older but you keep on living…
Inside my head there is a place for you my friend

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Liquid Joy 

Hello dear readers, well I’m celebrating my eighteen month anniversary of blogging, with another post originally from June 7th 2017, and I’ve rehashed the poem slightly.

Tears of liquid joy
Like rivers of fear
The memories so clear
And a toast to cheer
Tears of liquid joy
Like waves from the heart
Two great oceans apart
And wishing for another restart
Tears of liquid joy
Like dredged canals of the soul
Leaking from the broken porthole
And needing a free parole
Tears of liquid joy
Like a flowing molten lava
Passing a secret convoy
And singing like the last choirboy
Crying liquid joy

 

Ivor Steven (c) 2017

Its Just A Little Dream

Hi dear readers and friends, as you know I dream a lot, and most of my poems are from the images of my dreams. And this one is a typical example, a poem I posted here in June 2017, and was published by “The Drabble” in early July. A sincere thank you to Varnika Jain of Moonlighting Scrivener, for inspiring me to repost my “Dream”

It’s Just A Little Dream

 

I’ve been waiting inside,

For that never-never ride.

Wishing for that little shrug,

To turn into a dream-time hug.

I’ve been waiting outside,

Trying not to hide.

Wishing for that little smile,

To travel one more mile.

I’ve been waiting all-day,

Calling out, please stay.

Wishing for that little heartbeat,

To lay down at my feet.

I’ve been waiting all-night,

For that one-way flight.

Wishing for that little dove,

To glide over my love.

I’ve been waiting, seems forever,

Crying quietly, oh whatever.

Wishing for that little embrace,

To become my last dance.

Ivor Steven (c)