Saturday, 13 June 2015

Tied The Knot.

         Good, Morning World..
         On this day of days many moons ago the knot we tied..
         To the mad photographer, I chose to spend my life
         Those days were good, the young days of our lives
         Without a care in the world, but much love within us 
         From day to day we strived to build our lives
         From the little we had, but much love in our hearts
         Life was good in the younger days of our days
         They said it'll last not interfering in our lives our ways

         But they knew not the love between us..
         From day one as we set eyes, upon eyes
         Across a crowded room, that was the start
         That camera in my face every chance that he had
         As if looking in the lens of his camera
         He could see what was in my mind, I sighed
         My eyes would follow him each move he made each photo he took
         The butterflies in my stomach, with each appearance he made
         Here comes the mad photographer, said those of my friends.
         Loaded with cameras hanging from his neck..such a sight to see
        Then the clicking would start without, he taking a breath
        Self-consciously I'd feel, propping me on that staircase
        An ambiguous smile I'd give standing there, thinking
        Thinking was he mad..
        Hiding, from him at times
        Could face not another session, posing for photograph taking
        Whilst others saying here comes bleeding love
        Behind the barrels I'd hide where we met at Madeira's..wine lodge
        Now and then he'd come back, that dreaded camera in my face
        And it'll start all over again, clicking away every angle
        All those moons ago, nothing changes no way
        He still has that camera in my face clicking away
        Please go away and take that camera with you
        For I look not the way I used to do
        Laughingly saying you are by far,
        Still that young girl I met in that distant Island
        Like a flower elusively, alluringingly in that island in the sun
        Where the wine flows, my eyes were drinking you
        As he props me yet again on the staircase
        Photographing me all over again
        What's a girl to do!
        Happy Anniversary Boy!     
                                            By Connie James
    Connie James's photo.



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