ivor or ivor.e hogg

ivor or ivor.e hogg Poems


Any fool can be a father.
It takes a man to be a Dad.
Though some fellows would much rather
play the field as Jack the Lad.

The purple gloom of midnight hides
all outward signs of the decay.
A sense of grandeur still abides.
That’s absent by the light of day.

I hold the door open for you
a simple act of courtesy
This any gentleman would do.
To you I act insultingly.

A dog’s tale

A small dog shows his loyalty

I am a slave to poetry.

I do not wish to be set free
a willing prisoner happily.


I suffer from a strange disease.
A most peculiar malady,

November month of fog and mists.
The early mornings have a bite
the silver grass by Jack Frost kissed
in the dark hours of the night.

The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.

Religion is about control.
Although they claim to save your soul.
The truth is it’s a power game
the priests of all creeds are the same.

A New Deal

The shouting and the tumult dies.
The people have declared their choice

At midnight still the roses bloom
Their colours pale beneath the moon
Scenting the air with rich perfume
while nightingales sing their sweet tune.

Bob Adamson an ordinary guy,
woke suddenly one night and wondered why.
He saw or thought he saw within his room
a radiant figure lighting up the gloom.

I can recall nothing at all.
My mind is like a pristine page,
it’s rather sad but comical
I do not know my name or age.

Revealed to me exclusively.
Its natures plan to erase man.
No one accepts this prophecy.
They don’t believe that nature can.

Although things change they stay the same.
What changes is our point of view
beneath the sun theres nothing new
Although things change they stay the same.

Highways, byways and motorways
are very much the same to me.
I much prefer the bridle ways
Those quiet lanes are traffic free.

A portal closes then you see

This world’s a paradise again.
The race of man has been erased.
Replaced by beings far more sane
than humankind was as a race.

Still fields of scarlet poppies blow
on long abandoned battle fields.
The bones of dead men hid below
will feed their roots increasing yields.

Although my love is growing old.
She is still beautiful to me.
Though what I see you cannot see.
I see her as she used to be.

ivor or ivor.e hogg Biography

Ex airman Ex policemam ex social worker etc rather varied career pattern Married second time around to a poetess artist and musician two duugthers one son two step sons 10 grandchildren between us spread all over the globe Interests reading and writing poetry Reading sci fi and fantasy.Comparitive religion Re incarnation and Psi in general Retired and busier than I have ever been)

The Best Poem Of ivor or ivor.e hogg

A Dad

Any fool can be a father.
It takes a man to be a Dad.
Though some fellows would much rather
play the field as Jack the Lad.
Take their pleasure where they can
avoid responsibility
The lack the guts to be a man
despite their masculinity.
Real Dads are made of sterner stuff.
Take their duties seriously
stay steadfast when the goings tough
and always try their best to be.
The kind of Dad who’s firm but fair.
But best of all He’s always there.


http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

ivor or ivor.e hogg Comments

Bri Edwards 28 July 2018

you may no longer be on p-hunter. you may be dead; it may be so. but if you are indeed alive still, i wish you the best. now i must go.................

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Catrina Heart 22 January 2009

Ivor the master's craftman of poetry...his compositions were all carefully studied and penned, leaving no flaws to make it ageless. Perfectionist, using simple smooth flow of words with a very nice imagery. A true poet using rhymes and rhythms to all his glittering works... I am a fan Sir.

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Lucianne Fasolo 05 October 2007

I love your writing style, and your poems. They're all skillfully written and beautiful. But of course you know that by now, ;)

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Jennifer Perryman 09 September 2007

Fantasy friends for children are wonderful, as your poem is wonderful. 'Enjoyed' Magnificent poem, ivor

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