Thursday, 19 October 2017

Searching For Loving

I am searching
For some loving,
She’ll be a Lady
As I am fussy.
I’ll respect her
With fervour,
And will adhere
To her being dear. 

What are you up to;
I want you to woo:
Will you be a sensation
In hugging for a duration.
We could be respectable
With me being amiable.

© Andrew Stevenson 19/10/2017
A sonnet.
I wont be posting a poem all Weekend as I'm staying with my poorly mother. Blessings to you all.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Have A Care Clare

I loved our kissing and cuddling;
You were passionately endearing,
You were/are an inspiration
And I am sorry for our separation.
I have fond memories of you,
And would like to now pursue
Holding you in my arms -
Healing my suffering alms.

We shared a chemistry
Of having a vulnerability,
As we had both been mental
Which proved to be detrimental.
I liked you on either arm
With your loving, giving charm.

© Andrew Stevenson 19/10/2017
A sonnet.
A past poem about Clare, that I didn't post.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Wednesday, 18 October 2017

Save My Goal

You were a score not to pass,
Saving my inner wellbeing,
Will you become my lass,
A beginning with seeing.
You were fair with being a pair,
And had a need to share a care,
You were righteous with integrity -
A beautiful site to pleasantly see. 

I was never lazily lazy,
I was full of energy,
To please thee happily
By hugging sensually.
I am glad that I pulled you
Experiencing a love so true.

Copyright Andrew Stevenson 18/10/2017

A sonnet.

This is a poem about Clare that I didn't post!

Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Tuesday, 17 October 2017

A Pleasant Day

I’ve been with mum today,
I enjoyed my long stay,
My sister made us breakfast –
She is a lovely, loving lass.
My brother took mum for a meal
Where her hip she could feel,
She is slowly getting used to it
And her leg will soon be fit. 

I read a folder of poetic pieces
And had none about my nieces,
I will have to write some soon
When I share with them a room.
I have more reading to pursue
With recent pieces that are new. 

© Andrew Stevenson 22/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Monday, 16 October 2017

Looking After My Mother

I’ve been staying with my mother
At eight until the time of seven,
I have a respite as my brother
Looks after her with his other.
My mother believes in heaven
And used to teach Christianity,
She believes that we are brethren,
In a Biblical sense of sensibility. 

I treat all as sisters and brothers,
We should be respectful to others
As we all share earth together
Braving the stormy weather.
My mother is persevering
With her hip that is aching. 

© Andrew Stevenson 17/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Rose One

I trust your hand of hope, in the scope of loving aspirations, and Godly intentions: entwine your fingers in mine, and you will find, love ‘in kind’, as I have in mind to gently lead you out of the dark, to embark on a path of righteous integrity with sincerity, as I have faith in thee, and you will see a light emblazoned with a fiery passion with an explosion of a Biblical proportion, as I am Christianly in morality, and have values that are complimentary to being good natured, an innate quality to sate your curiosity, and enhance your ability to see clearly, as in my palm you will feel matrimonial inclinations of loving supplications. 

© Andrew Stevenson 28/1/14
This is a trilogy of pieces I wrote for an African girl I was dating online. Sorrowfully she lost touch with me through her lack of computer access! I've posted these before, so if you've read them before - sorry. I didn't get any comments on them the last time I posted them, so hope for a better response the second time around. I've been looking after my mother post op on her hip, so haven't the time to write a poem at the moment - perhaps tomorrow. Blessings to you all. Enjoy you week.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.


Rose Two

You are a sight to see, a vision of tranquillity, and like the light of life, you shine to supplement my strife, as your warmth is comforting, and your embrace is nurturing, and as I grow with your nutritional sense, I blossom in your reciprocations of expressive supplications, with dedications in context with your morality, a vanity of sanity that is complementary to visions of ‘we’, and together we can bloom, as in a bride and groom, if you prove to be, the one for me! 

I long to caress your text of philosophies, and will heed your need to feed this creed with a seed to plant, a foundation to build upon, to fill our hearts with empathy, of suffering philanthropy, as I am learned and understand the barren hand that feeds your land, and as bushes burn under the heat, we will passion our thoughts with ought’s, and ignite a fight to this plight, as a concrete jungle sprouts with bouts of suppression, with a crop forgot, and as populaces thirst and hunger, the thunder that will blow from the sky, is a godly cry and sigh as to why flourish being impoverished - a capitalistic and tyrant disgrace in the face of humanity! 

I hope you like this poem, it expresses that if I make my fortune, I will be charitable and aid the just cause of trying to alleviate some suffering in your environment. I am a humble and modest person, and am not greedy, and think of the needy, and although it’s nice to live comfortably, appropriately, it’s also nice to think of others, as we are ‘all’ Sisters and Brothers, and those that deserve a helping hand should prosper in your land to think of others too! 

As a utopian I believe in sharing, and caring, and hugging and loving, and being a nice person, as it’s nice to be nice! I love liking you, and you seem surreal, as I’ve been searching for a lady with values such as you have, and I’d like to care for you, and comfort you, and share my LOVE with you, as you are a delight, and deliciously presented, as in you are so attractive, pretty, and beautiful, and I long and lust to be in your arms, an embrace I’d treasure! 

Do not wither my rose, flourish with I comforting warmth, and bloom in your essence, which I love! Take wonderful and gentle care. Love my love, Andrew. Bye.

© Andrew Stevenson  28/1/14
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Rose Three

Rose is a flower who can devour a shower of tears, and lap up sadness, returning happiness, and she is an inspiration to I literary aspirations, as with her, a poetic piece becomes a worth of affluence, as I now have a wealth of health. 

She has stealth in her words, which penetrate my very being, and upon seeing her sweet verses, I am spell-bound in enchantment, as she is a sacrament of nutrition to savour, as she seems true to her heart, and regardless of being worlds apart, she is an apple cart of wisdom, and after a taste of her affection, I will turn in her direction, and we can share our palatable oaths with toasts of cheer, and sip the vows of hosts, without the ghosts of the past, as we will surpass history, and bend on a knee, and pray for the brighter day of loving, joyful play! 

© Andrew Stevenson 29/1/14

Sunday, 15 October 2017

A Caring Pairing

Mark, my older brother,
Has a likeable partner,
Her name is Melanie –
A delightful she to me;
She has graceful grace
And a beautiful face;
Mark is lucky to have she
And she lucky to have he. 

They make a nice couple
Being personable and amiable,
They have a good relationship
Full of friendly friendship.
I wish them both all the best
With their partnership zest. 

© Andrew Stevenson 15/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Worshipping Him

If you’re experiencing hardship,
Praise Jesus’ with some worship,
And you can ease your suffering
With a liking for His caring:
Jesus loved the humble poor
And opened a welcoming door,
That they could enter a Church
To continue their Godly search. 

Mathew, Mark, Luke and John
Taught others to love the Son,
They had a Godly wisdom to share
That is wisely beyond compare.
The New Testament pages
Will last throughout the ages. 

© Andrew Stevenson 15/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Saturday, 14 October 2017

Caring For My Mother

I’m caring for my mum at nine,
Post op she is feeling fine,
I’m looking after her all day
While my sister is away,
I’m taking my pet dog Sadie,
As mum likes playing with she,
She will cheer her up tremendously
As she snuggles up to her on the settee. 

My mother watches daytime TV,
Which isn’t appealing to me,
I like to listen to music playing
While I am restfully resting.
I will do an hour gardening
As it needs weeding and cutting. 

© Andrew Stevenson 14/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Friday, 13 October 2017

A Muse To Choose

I am searching for a Lady,
I am opening my eyes to see
Which females act reciprocally
To me being romantically
Wooing with my pursuing,
I offer a sincere courtship
Full of friendly friendship
With lots of sharing and giving. 

I am ready to fall in love again,
I hope it will be similarly the same
As my previous gain of loving
Which was dearly pleasing.
I hope she will be endearing
And a muse for my writing. 

© Andrew Stevenson 14/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Love Above

Jesus was love to the core,
He preached to help the poor,
He opened a welcoming door
To help those feeling sore;
As some were suffering
As plenty were not caring;
Jesus advocated sharing
With neighbourly loving. 

The scriptures are a blessing,
Lots are pleasingly stressing
A new beginning from sinning
With a heavenly pining.
Mathew, Mark, Luke and John
Wrote about New times begun. 

© Andrew Stevenson 13/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Nicknamed Jimbo

James, my nephew,
Doesn’t take a pew,
But he is Christianly
By acting respectfully
To his loving mother
And his doting daughter,
He loves them both so
Which does grow. 

I like James, he’s funny,
And accepts my mentality,
He offered a nice friendship
Throughout my hardship.
He has plenty of mates
Coming through his gates. 

© Andrew Stevenson 13/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Thursday, 12 October 2017

A Score To The Sore

James knows the score,
To help the poor,
He opens a welcoming door
Being friendly
To those feeling poorly,
Such as me,
As I am sometimes unwell
That he can tell. 

He is loving to his mother,
They are still living together,
He treats her respectfully
And makes her happy.
He split from his partner
As she was with another. 

© Andrew Stevenson 12/10/2017
A sonnet.
James is my nephew.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Home From Hospital

My mother is home,
She is not alone
As Kim is there
To lend a care,
Mum is doing well
Which is swell,
She is not in pain
As her hip is tame. 

I’m looking after her
Later, as my sister
Is going to see her son
Who lives in Warrington.
Me and mum will chat
While she is happily sat. 

© Andrew Stevenson 12/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Only Small But Standing Tall

James, my nephew,
Is a hard worker,
He does pursue
Being a grafter,
He is a builder
And a roofer,
His wise boss
Is not at a loss. 

He is only small
But stands tall,
A jack the lad
Mostly glad.
A loving father
To his daughter.

© Andrew Stevenson 12/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Wednesday, 11 October 2017

My Pull Will Be An Equal

My partner will be semblable,
And will be perfectly able
To bring her wishes to the table,
As I am now respectfully stable:
I am patiently waiting for she
To show her pretty face to me,
She will be beautiful inside and out
And will act Christianly with clout. 

I don’t mind being a father again
If that is what she is willing,
I treat my children the same
With my loving nurturing.
I’ve been on my own for a year
And need to step up searching a gear. 

© Andrew Stevenson 11/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

A Scope With Christian Hope

I hope my future wife
Is pleasantly nice,
And is a sight to savour
With good behaviour,
And I hope she is loving
With sharing and caring;
I hope we make a good pairing
And she enjoys wayfaring. 

I would be respectful
And not neglectful,
I would treat her right
With all of my might.
She will be beautiful
Acting Christianly sensible. 

© Andrew Stevenson 11/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Will She Come To Be With Me

Will my next partner
Have a pleasant nature,
And will she nurture
Loving love from me
So we can both be
Happily happy in glee.
Will she respectfully see
My sincere sincerity. 

I am patiently waiting
For some romantic dating,
I would be a gentleman
Hoping she’d become a fan.
She would come to find
That I’m now sane of mind. 

© Andrew Stevenson 11/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Tuesday, 10 October 2017

Our Hit To Keep Us Fit

My dog woke me up at four
To take her out for a walk,
I opened up the front door
And let her out for a stalk,
She preys on innocent cats
But gladly they are too fast,
She likes to pick up a stick
And give herself a lick. 

We went to a nature park
Where it was still dark,
The squirrels weren’t in sight
As it was still like the night.
We got back at about six
From our early morning fix. 

© Andrew Stevenson 11/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Staying In Hospital

My mother was due home,
But she had a dizzy spell,
She had a moan and groan
But she’ll stay until she’s well.
She is up on her feet more
Feeling considerably less sore;
Her meds are being reduced
So she is less induced. 

Her partner is in a home,
Where he likes to roam,
They offer him great care
And he likes being there.
They will soon be back together
To weather again his dementia. 

© Andrew Stevenson 11/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Monday, 9 October 2017

To Be Christianly

I’d like a Lady to be my dear,
I would be respectfully sincere
With honest intentions to share,
And with a matrimonial care
I would ask her to be my wife
To be with me throughout my life,
I’d love her generously
To make us both happy.

She will be Christianly inclined,
And like sharing with being kind,
She will love loving with hugging
With some passionate kissing.
I am searching during travelling
And am persevering while waiting. 

© Andrew Stevenson 09/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Entice Being My Wife

I am searching for a Lady
To get together with me,
She will be Christianly
By acting respectfully.
She will fulfil my destiny
Of ending up happily happy
With characteristics to entice
Her to be my loving wife. 

I will be sensibly
Not acting mentally,
As I have come to be
A source of tranquillity.
We could share our life
With caring that is nice.

© Andrew Stevenson 10/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Is She Looking For Me

I am pining for a Lady
To lovingly be with me,
I offer a sincere courtship
With a friendly friendship,
I am chivalrous with etiquette
And would be a gentleman
Offering what I humbly can
Personably with integrity.

I am not suffering mentally,
And have a sane sanity,
I always act respectfully
To those being Christianly.
Is she also pining for me
To fruitfully come to be. 

© Andrew Stevenson 09/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

A New Beginning From Sinning

Jesus was my Saviour,
I respected His behaviour,
He forgave my sinning,
Saving me from transgressing,
I had a new beginning
With my Godly believing,
Jesus offered a friendship
If you take the time to worship. 

I like to think of others
As sisters and brothers,
We can all act Christianly,
Just open your eyes to see
That you can have respectability
Of following happily in glee. 

© Andrew Stevenson 09/10/2017
A sonnet.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.


This is the first three pages of my novel that I'm currently writing. SI, the main character, isn't mentioned yet, as I'm expressing his father and mother in the first chapter. I hope you enjoy reading.

Inga took a step closer, carefully placing his barefoot on the undergrowth, which remained silent. He now felt in range to release his spear from his firing position; the spear flew with deadly intent and reached its unsuspecting target within seconds. The target yelped and fell to the ground, seriously wounded by the shot. Inga sprang forward, then sprinted to his fallen quarry. 

His prey, upon hearing this advancement, fearfully struggled to its feet to make haste a possible escape: the spear dangled from its hind-quarters dragging on the ground as it speedily ran. Inga was in hot pursuit, thinking fast on his feet as he navigated the trees and forest floor at speed. His prey quickly made some ground on him, but then its injury began to take a hold, and it rapidly slowed. It tried in vain to keep on running, but not even its fear could muster the incapacitated limb to respond! It finally fell, and gasped for breath as it waited its fate! 

It was in a clearing, and soon the beaming sun shining over it darkened into Inga’s shadow, then into Inga himself. It frightfully stared up at Inga, and was surprised to see an expression of grievance upon his face! Inga felt sorrow for the animal, and his eyes welled up with tears as he searched for a suitable rock! After some rummaging through the grass, he found what he was looking for, then returned to his prey. He knelt on the ground beside it, then stroked its soft, warm neck as he sighed. Inga chanted a prayer:

‘I pray, oh sun god, hear I. Thank you food for tribe.’ 

When he was finished, he lifted the rock above him with both hands, then smashed it down into the creatures head; blood splashed out of the pierced skull. Inga briefly looked away from the horror of it all, then chanted another prayer: 

‘I pray, oh sun god, hear I. I am a warrior of the Ashanti tribe. Inga kill deer, take spirit of deer!’ 

Shortly after, he felt blood begin to soak his knees, so he finished his prayer and stood up. He stooped down to dip his finger in the blood, then drew a circle on each cheek representing the sun and moon. 

‘I pray, oh sun god, hear I. Protect I. Keep I warm with your heat. Guide I with your light.’ 

He pulled out his spear, then scanned the clearing and forest for any possible signs of danger! A patch of tall grass to his left caught his attention moving, but it was just swaying in a breeze. He liked the butterflies that danced above it, and the array of designs and colours they had on display. Flies were beginning to irritate him, attracted by the dead body: he swiped at them, stunning one with a smack that sent it hurtling to the ground: Inga quickly stamped on it. He picked up the deer by its two back feet, then set on his way, dragging the body behind him.  

Before long he picked up the trail that had brought him to this particular hunting ground, a stream that would lead him to a river, which would lead him to his village. He stepped into it, shuddering at first at its chill, then to appreciate its coolness as the heat of the day flared. He dropped the body, which briefly coloured the flowing water red, then placed his spear on the embankment. Inga sat on his haunches, then cupped his hands together to drink from the refreshing water. He stood up, scanned the area around him, then set off downstream with the deer in tow. 

A roaming sabre tooth tiger picked up a scent of blood, which lured him to the spot of Inga’s kill. It was hungry, and desperate for a meal! It sniffed about, and scented droplets of human sweat, which caused it to instantly check the immediate vicinity! It licked up what blood it could, lapping up dirt and grass in the process, then swiftly and stealthily followed the trail of blood. It came to a halt at the stream, losing the scent. It sniffed the air for possible signs, but could find no traces of Inga and the deer within the breeze that was blowing down the valley. It lapped up a hearty drink, then searched the area for any possible traces. Moments later it traced a faint scent of blood where the spear had been, reasoning then took it downstream!  

Further downstream, Inga stopped for a rest. He drank until his thirst was quenched, then washed the sweat off his brow, that had been irritably dripping over his eyes. He sat down on the grassy embankment, then massaged his arms to alleviate some of the aching. He took in the natural beauty before him: the glory of the sun shining through the open canopy above the stream, reflecting its bright light on its surface; the splendor of the array of trees, proud in stance and bloom; the beauty of the flowers, rich in various types of colour; the wonder of nature, with birds darting to and thro, butterflies floating here and there, and insects going from A to B; the majestic sight of the surrounding peaks, encompassing the valley where he lived.  

Two little birds squabbling caught his attention. He watched them madly chirping while attempting to peck each other, while frantically flapping their wings for flight and defense! He looked on intrigued at who might come out the victor, and before long one flew away with the other chasing behind. He reasoned they were probably siblings, at odds with each other from the nest.  

A toad suddenly startled him, croaking wildly next to him. He marveled at such a little creature being so brave, or stupid, in the face of overwhelming adversity. He poked a cautious finger at it, saying: 

‘You’re little, I’m big. You’re brave, I’m brave. You sit there, I sit here. Am I in your way?’ Inga laughed at his last comment, then felt a little stupid himself for talking to creatures, but carried on regardless, ‘is this your territory and I’m sitting in it?’ He laughed again, then composed himself before saying, ‘I’m leaving now, toad win fight,’ he burst into an almighty fit of laughter at the thought of a mere toad getting the better of him, Inga, a brave warrior of the Ashanti tribe!  

Inga rose, then bent down near the water to rinse his hair, catching a glimpse of his reflection before he did so: black, unkempt hair; tanned, Caucasian skin; deep brown eyes; proud nose and a small mouth protruding through a short beard. He brushed his hands through his wet hair, which made him feel a little better. He lifted the flap of his animal hide undergarment, then urinated on the embankment.  

He looked at the toad once again, proudly sitting there watching him, then slowly prodded it with his spear, causing it to jump a short distance. Inga mischievously waved the spear in front of the stubborn toads face! 

‘Toad brave and toad stupid! I’ve got a spear,’ Inga stated as he carefully pushed the toad aside, ‘I win fight now,’ he said with a victorious grin. Inga proudly displayed his chest to the toad, flexing it so it bulged! 

‘Toad got big chest, I’ve got big chest. My chest bigger than toad’s!’ 

Inga picked up the deer, then paused as he took in the canopy of trees that led down the valley for miles. His thoughts drifted to his village, and he envisaged his beautiful girlfriend anxiously waiting for him. A sneeze brought him back around to the matter at hand! 

‘Bye toad. Live long life,’ Inga hopefully said as he set on his way, but was doubtful with such stupidity! 

Sometime later, the tiger caught the scent of Inga’s urine, then followed this to where he had urinated. It saw the toad, then instantly pounced on it, biting it in two with his teeth, a little appetizer to appease its hunger! It searched for traces of the deer, but could find no scent of it! It quickly set off back downstream, hoping for a bigger meal soon!  

Inga was making steady progress, prompted by the need to get back to the village before nightfall. His arm ached, so he stopped to use the other one to drag the carcass. He scanned the area behind him, then set off on his way again. A little further down the trail he came to an abrupt halt, having heard a rustling sound coming from the bushes to his left. Inga carefully placed the deer down into the water, took hold of his spear in both hands, then held it defensively out before him. He stood there, paused in motion, intently watching and listening! After what seemed an age, he heard the sound again. Inga stood there, waiting in a paradoxical state, brave and fearful as to what might ensue!  

Moments later a rabbit peered out from under it, saw Inga, then darted back for cover. Inga breathed a sigh of relief, then relaxed from his defensive stance. He suddenly heard splashing footsteps behind him, and was instantly alarmed! Inga quickly turned to face the threat, and was horrified to see a sabre tooth tiger rapidly advancing upon him. He froze, and seemed suspended in time as his mind raced for a resolution!  

Seconds later, he quickly searched for a tree to scale, but there wouldn’t be time! The tiger, upon seeing the weapon, abruptly slowed down its pace to approach with more caution. Inga slowly retreated, taking cautious steps backwards to remain facing the beast. It roared an almighty growl that shook Inga to his very core! Inga stared at the beast’s jaws, open wide revealing its long teeth, and was petrified!  

He took a few more steps backwards, in the positive direction of a tree he could climb. He stabbed the space before him with the spear, in the vain hope of warding the tiger off! It came upon him and swiped viciously at the weapon. Inga wildly stabbed at its giant paws, connecting with one: the tiger roared in pain, then backed off a little. Inga took a few more steps backwards, getting ever closer to the safety of the trees!  

The tiger limped towards him, still a formidable and frightening sight! Inga despairingly glanced at the trees, so near yet so far, and wondered whether he should now make a run for it before it was too late? The tiger came upon him again, growling viciously, then snapping its jaws at the weapon threatening it; Inga seized his chance, and thrust the spear into the beast’s mouth, piercing its throat. The tiger roared in pain, then swiped at the spear, forcing it out of Inga’s hands! Inga was mortified at finding himself without a weapon, and instantly sprinted for the nearest tree he could scale!  

The tiger frantically swiped at the spear, eventually dislodging it from its throat, then immediately sprinted after Inga, who was now nestled safely up an oak tree. It leapt up the trunk, sinking its claws into the bark for grip. Inga’s heart sank in despair as the beast climbed up the tree, and he prepared himself for the worst when the beasts grip suddenly gave way, dropping it on its hind legs back on the ground. Inga was extremely relieved, yet nervously watched the magnificent beast prowling about below him.

Soon thereafter the tiger left for the stream, desperate to quench the thirst that the injury was now inflicting upon it. Inga watched it lapping up gulps of water, and wondered how long he might have to spend up the tree - perhaps all night! The tiger felt faint, so it searched for a suitable spot to lay down that offered some cover. Inga watched the tiger seemingly go to sleep, and wondered if he was dead or not? He dare not venture down at this moment in time, in case the beast stirred and attacked him!
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.