The Marriage Dance

first dance

Remember when we swayed
clasped body to body,
drunk with love, while people
watched and cooed and cheered

Lost on our rocking boat
the dancefloor filled with friends
and excited children
without us noticing 

I trod on your silk skirts
with my clumsy left feet
tangled, we tripped and laughed
and were both indulgent  

The flowers in your hair
slipped and fell to the floor
and were crushed beneath us
and it didn’t matter 

Then when the beat of the music changed
we drew apart
we misaligned
and we mistimed the rhythm

That tender way we danced
it seems so long ago

 

 

Look at the birdie…

Posted in response to the DailyPost weekly photo challenge.  This week’s theme ‘Graceful’.

Early Morning Mist

Yeah, I know, I know, I’ve used this picture before, but I honestly couldn’t fine a more fitting example for this challenge.  Oh, I had lots of nice birdie and animal pictures, and more graceful arching branches than I could count.  But, this photo of the most graceful building in the world, the Taj Mahal, caught by my goodself in the (very) early morning mist (yawn…) says it all.

We all think we know about the Taj Mahal, but no photograph or tv picture in the world will ever capture it’s vastness and purity of structure and form.  It glows in the sunrise with quite breathtaking beauty and grace.

Shame the bloomin’ bird got in the way… hehee.. 😉

Only  joking. Just look at the gorgeous sweep of those wings!

 

Dalliance

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Lets go down to the bluebell wood
to lie beneath the new sprung leaves

and let the patterns of their shadows

dance upon our bodies
 

And we’ll snuggle

to annul the fresh spring breeze

which bears the scent

of those virgin flowers

that wreath us as we watch 

the insects search

for nectar 

They’ll be no apples nor any snakes

and yet we’ll sin as one

hidden there in bliss

amongst the bracken

and lucky white heather

 

 

 

Storm Brewing

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We sat on a bench
Watching the seething sky
While the merciless wind
Whipped at our cheeks
When tenderly you took my hand
You said you’d die for me 

You said you’d die for me
Yet that was long ago
Youth is foolish and unwary
Yes, in the moment I believed
Your untrue truths
But how you lied to me 

But how you lied to me
Bully
Brute
Beast
Before long
It was me who died for you

 

As you see me

IMG_0312Posted in response to the Daily Post weekly discovery challenge – this week’s theme ‘Portrait’.

Ok, I’ll fess up… I didn’t take the portrait, but I did take the picture of the portrait, if you see what I mean!

When my daughter told me that she’d received an old polaroid camera for her birthday, I was quite jealous. Enchanted by the idea of ‘instant pictures’ I remember badly wanting one when I was younger. Of course, that was way, way, before the digital camera age and now photographs are ten a penny and disposable so  I was surprised at how excited she was.

The film thingy’s are very expensive, and she was still getting used to the camera, and she warned me that the results were not so much ‘sharp’ as ‘interesting’ but in fact I love this shot.

I love the fact that, although you get the gist that its me, my features are blurred, and that she’s captured my expression of thoughtful bemusement at the world exactly how I would like it to be captured.  To put it bluntly – how I want other’s to see me.

The thought has been growing in my mind ever since it was taken.

I’ve always had problems trying to find a ‘suitable’ profile picture which encapsulates my overall demeanor without showing me baring my wonky teeth in an insane grin, or wrinkling up my eyes, or losing my real chin amongst the others.  Problem is, in my head I am still youthful, slim, and lovely so it’s always a bit of a shock to see the reality captured in a snap.

I have the same problem at the yoga studio, the one where there is mirrors.

‘oh blimey, who is that baggy old biddy who looks like a squishy sack of potatoes?’

‘oh poop, it’s me.’

I guess a lot of people of my age feel the same, and really, I’m fit and healthy so I shouldn’t worry about what I look like, right?

It sounds like a cliché, but speaking to my friends I gather I’m not alone in still feeling young on the inside whilst my body tells the bitter truth in photographs. It’s depressing.

So from now on I’m steering clear of the lens and you’ll just have to take my word for it that I’m a happy soul who moves my sylph like body with the grace of an angel and whose face is as blemish, and wrinkle free as an Egyptian sheet in a five star hotel. 😉