Have you ever taken a photograph, and then found, when you look at it on-screen, all sorts of little details that you hadn't noticed at the time? A young bud bursting with colour, just about to open; a tiny cloud amongst lots of big cumulus, that is all alone and a perfect square shape: that sort of thing?
I love taking photographs. And the more I take, the more it makes me look closely – both at the time of snapping, and during the more leisurely viewing on my computer screen. Digital photography is so instant, so realistic, so exciting. Sometimes, a beautiful photograph of, say, a personable, friendly robin, or a perfect flower head, is a poem in itself. Sometimes the picture can inspire a poem.
These days, most people have a camera with them all the time, if only on their mobile phone. Start looking for unusual photographs, and then allow words to enter the arena – you might find you end up with a poem or two. Here are a couple of examples of my new photo-poems that have sprouted this spring:
Can You See Frog?
Can you see Frog in the pond there – shiny and shy?
He doesn't miss much with his careful, cautious eye.
He's come up for air, you can just see his head and – dash!
We came too close: he's a memory, a plop, and a splash!
Paper clips are the safety pins of life,
Or life as we know it.
They anchor aspirations,
Hold thoughts together,
Add purpose to cold white corners.
Even empty pages,
Devoid of word or picture,
Seem stronger, more constructive,
For their metal presence.
They epitomise efficiency;
They mean business.
No messing; no mess:
“We are paper clips
And we're not afraid of paper.”
At least, that was the case,
Until God invented plastic.
Now, in their frivolous colours,
They trivialise the desk.
“Party time!” they cheer,
Grinning from 'ere to 'ere.
“Ever thought of linking us?
We make a great necklace.
Dive in. Enjoy!”
Photos and poems (Can You See Frog and Paper Clips) © Celia Warren 2011