Poems by Ann D. Stevenson

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A Very Modern Cinderella (who Still Meets Her Prince)
- Published: January 27, 2026
in Humorous Poems

No, no, no - I feel really low
I don't want to go to the ball.

My hair is a mess - I can't find a dress

No, no, no - I feel really low
I don't want to go to the ball.

My hair is a mess - I can't find a dress
I don't want to go to the ball.

OK then I'll come - it won't be much fun
but to please you I'll go to the ball.

The food's not too bad - I don't feel so sad
that I gave in and came to the ball.

And there's an old chum - who thinks it's quite fun
to meet up with friends at the ball.

She wants me to meet - an old friend called Pete
who watched me arrive at the ball.

I look hard at Pete - my heart jumps a beat
I'm so glad I came to the ball.

Pete's really divine - one day he'll be mine
I hope you'll all come to the ball.
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- Votes 6
- Rating 3.83

The Clocks Have All Stopped
- Published: October 25, 2024
How Life Changes After A Loved One Dies

in Husband Death Poems

(He used to wind them
once a week.)

A dark oak clock

(He used to wind them
once a week.)

A dark oak clock
on the mantlepiece
stands bleak
above an empty grate
once a source
of warmth and light.

There is a slight glow
from the clock
on his desk
made of gilded brass
a farewell gift
from his final post.

The grandfather clock
a valued antique
stands silent in the hall
no further chimes
no pendulum swings
hands don't move any more.

The only sound left
is the faintest tick
from a well-worn watch
with its military band
a familiar fixture on his wrist
I now hold it in my hand.
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- Votes 17
- Rating 3.88
Featured Shared Story

Patricia, You are indeed a friend - a very good friend indeed. Thank you for always being there for me. Love and very best wishes, Ann

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I Walk Alone
- Published: February 25, 2025
Learning To Live Without My Love

in Husband Death Poems

A shadow walks beside me
in the rising rays
of the sun
I turn a corner

A shadow walks beside me
in the rising rays
of the sun
I turn a corner
the shadow has gone
I walk on
alone.

Up in the hills
on a well-worn track
I see mists begin to lift
from calm seas
and beloved shores
we had known
before.

I breathe in aromas
of healing herbs
as they waft
and linger on
a reminder of how
his scent remained
long after he had gone.

I feel the warmth
of familiar paths
chirrups of crickets
begin to rise
a butterfly emerges
into the light
spreads its wings
and flies.
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- Stories 5
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- Votes 14
- Rating 4.00
Featured Shared Story

I firmly believe that our passed loved ones are all around us all the time. All we have to do is look around us, at nature, movies, poems, even in our dreams. I am certain that your husband...

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A Beneficial Bonfire
- Published: September 8, 2026
Benefits Of Lighting A Bonfire

in Sonnet Poems

Rubbish in my head can smoulder on
creating smokey fumes which fog my brain
and when I think the murky clouds have gone
a few small sparks will bring them back again.

Rubbish in my head can smoulder on
creating smokey fumes which fog my brain
and when I think the murky clouds have gone
a few small sparks will bring them back again.

Time to step outside and make a real fire
a myriad sparkles as it bursts alight
glowing growing flames stretch ever higher
smoke spirals as it wafts off out of sight.

There's warmth as all that rubbish burns away
transforming itself into treasured ash
which serves to nurture earth another day
and helps to make the flowers bloom afresh.

A bonfire of those thoughts from long ago
can make me smile and feel an inner glow.
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- Votes 4
- Rating 4.00

My Other Half
- Published: February 2024
Missing My Other Half

in Husband Death Poems

Together for over fifty years,
times of laughter and of tears.
I fell in love with all his charms,
could dance forever in his arms.

Together for over fifty years,
times of laughter and of tears.
I fell in love with all his charms,
could dance forever in his arms.

Except he didn't dance.

He preferred to ride a horse
I'd only ride if I was forced.
He loved dogs - I must confess
I thought they made a lot of mess.

We always had a dog.

I love people and talking,
he would rather be walking.
I like to paint and write,
he felt that was alright.

But he would rather read.

He liked to ski,
that was not for me.
I like to shop,
he definitely did not.

We both had fun in the sun.

It was not a perfect match,
but he was quite a catch,
and now that he is here no more
I feel stranded on an empty shore.

Half of me has gone.
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- Stories 7
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- Votes 20
- Rating 4.05
Featured Shared Story

Hi Alan

Yes, we have very similar stories. I too had been married for 58 years. Like you, I have also done a creative writing course since retirement. I very much look forward to...

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Six Senses Of Love
- Published: November 2022
Falling In Love

in Short Love Poems

I heard your voice,
I saw you grin,
I tasted your lips,
I breathed you in,

I heard your voice,
I saw you grin,
I tasted your lips,
I breathed you in,
I held you close,
I touched your skin.

My sixth sense said,
"I’ll marry him."
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- Votes 45
- Rating 4.07
When I Made My Vow
- Published: June 2024
Becoming A Carer To Spouse

in Sickness Poems

'For better for worse'
I did not know
what worse was going to be,
that I would lose

'For better for worse'
I did not know
what worse was going to be,
that I would lose
my own identity.

He too is lost
in muddled mists
of time and mind.

Oh, that the fog would clear
so he could see
the lover that I used to be
before
I became the carer.
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- Votes 9
- Rating 4.11
She Tried To Fit In
- Published: September 2024
Moving Into A Nursing Home

in Aging Poems

To find room
for her flannel nighties,
a well-worn woollen dressing gown,
her furry slippers

To find room
for her flannel nighties,
a well-worn woollen dressing gown,
her furry slippers
and a few day clothes too.

A much loved book by Agatha Christie,
only one, although
she owned a whole collection,
and a china duck, small, lifelike,
from another collection.

Three photos,
the son who was lost at sea,
her daughter carried away by cancer
and a small picture of her husband
to put beside her single bed.

She brought memories,
muddled up memories,
memories of old songs
she loved to sing,
but sometimes she didn't want to join in.

Sometimes she didn't want to get up,
to be washed, to be dressed,
to mix with others,
sometimes she wanted to go home,
back where she belonged.
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- Stories 7
- Shares 9
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- Votes 17
- Rating 4.12
Featured Shared Story

Peggy,

I wondered if you write poetry yourself. I don't seem to be able to find any of your work online...

Very best wishes,

Ann

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Endless Summer
- Published: July 2021
Memories Of Happier Times

in Summer Poems

Oh, for those cloudless days of old
when holidays went on forever,
clear blue skies were lit with gold.

Oh, for those cloudless days of old
when holidays went on forever,
clear blue skies were lit with gold.

Grass seemed so much greener then,
days fluttered by like butterflies
in the garden playing with friends.

Fields were full of wildflowers
we picked and pressed into a book,
books were read for many hours.

Those trips away beside the sea,
ice cream and donkeys on the beach,
and surfing through the waves with glee.

We built our castles in the sand,
whilst kites reached heights of happiness,
it seemed those days would never end.
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- Stories 2
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- Votes 32
- Rating 4.16
Featured Shared Story

I can remember those lovely summer vacations with all my neighborhood friends, soaking in my 2-foot pool, riding bikes, sitting by the river, playing wiffle and kick ball on my street and the...

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A Lasting Memory
- Published: July 2024
in Falling in Love Poems

It was not the sight of a night sky
bejewelled with numerous stars,
nor the whisperings from the waves.

It was not the sight of a night sky
bejewelled with numerous stars,
nor the whisperings from the waves.

It was the look in his eyes,
taste of salt on his lips,
when I received that first kiss.

It was not the rippled moonlit path
beguiling us into the sea,
nor the glow of a smouldering fire.

It was the warmth of his arms
and his talk that charmed
it was that - that stayed with me.
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- Stories 0
- Shares 46
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- Votes 9
- Rating 4.22

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