The meeting of minds

Little Lamper at work

Thirteen months and growing

Dear Little Lamper,

we've recovered ... well, just about! It was rather hectic, wasn't it? Mummy off to learn how to mark papers properly, and us left in charge of you. Or was it the other way round, I wonder?

You did enjoy exploring, didn't you. Especially all those places that thirteen month old toddlers shouldn't be. And as for your dancing? Any grandson of mine who can cut a mean rug to the Brazilian back beats of Azymuth wins a special star from me!

The sight of you, Little Lamper, swaying from side to side, hands aloft and dressed in little more than a t-shirt and a slightly fragrant Pamper, will remain with me for ever.

And then you fell down.

But that's life.

So pick yourself up once more, young man, and spin in time with grandpa. It's the rhythm of life, you know.

God bless,

electrofried(grumps)

Contemplate

Dancing

Dancing in the light
of
a Sunday school reunion

Do you see them hold up the photographs?
Frozen into black on white
as their coloured souls
spring lively across a Methodist hall.

We clutched at hearts
and I stood on chairs to look down
with my lens
on love

A thousand breaking hearts
as they dance
to the pulse
past fresh generations
brimming and spin.

new life
and dying

My Day

and did we scuttle
like some scarab beetle
down naked streets.

the light pulsing ...

a baby asleep
becotted and calm,
as the mother dreams
beneath the drone of a disconnected TV programme

swimming amongst families
dodging in and out of the lanes
as crystal cutting waters
depart

my day

Dance the Night Away