Today I am presenting one of my original poems from when I first began writing 20 years, probably about 2 years after my first stroke way back in September 2000 ….
I am quickly nearing this fence.
An obstacle of a lifetime I see.
And from my side of this fence,
The hurdle is too high for me.
And on the other side of this fence,
There seems nowhere to land or flee.
I have arrived at this fence,
Above the pickets, just grey sky.
And on my side of this fence,
The grass is brown and dry.
On the other side of this fence,
The grass is green, but still I cry.
How am I to clear this fence,
There seems nowhere to go, or get by.
This fence, all built of stones,
Breaks my spirit, and all my bones.
Ivor Steven (c) April 2021
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