I heard The News Today, It’s a Boy!

Photographed by Ryco Montefont – North London, United Kingdom 2017

In the tapestry of memories, there lies a photograph divine, A moment crystallized in time, a masterpiece, rightly mine, An opus of hues and tales, where every element aligns. In North London’s realm, we stood, awaiting destiny’s embrace, A partner, a companion, and a future we’d soon trace, The stage was set, the props in place, each nuance we’d embrace.

A concrete bowl, an oracle, stood grand and proud, in view, Its somber grace, a testament, to the journey we’d pursue, As if sculpted by fate’s own hand, in shades of gray and blue. Beside it stood my love, adorned in gown of hues so fair, A dance of colors, fate had spun, in the brisk London air, A vision of life, blooming bright, in her tender, loving care.

Her gown mirrored the bowl, a canvas of subtle grace, In hues akin, a whispered bond, life’s gentle embrace, A tale of tender, nurturing love, in this ephemeral space. The postbox, a vibrant red, proclaimed a tale untold, A package soon to be delivered, a future yet to unfold, A secret shared, in silent whispers, a wonder to behold. Thirteen weeks and two days, a countdown to a new dawn, A miracle growing, a life to love and fawn, The bowl, a cradle, for dreams to spawn and spawn.

With care and precision, I set the shutter’s delicate dance, To capture life’s sweet poetry, in every fleeting glance, An ode to strength and motherhood, in the lens’ elegant trance. Her gentle steps, a testament, to grace and anticipation, A symbol of hope, of love, and life’s sweet continuation, Her glide through pregnancy’s journey, a tale of pure elation.

In this photographic symphony, a road sign stood its part, An artist’s touch, in Photoshop’s realm, a work of subtle art, Her initials, etched in the sign, a whisper from the heart. Oh, this image, a cherished opus, a tale of love and light, A serenade to beginnings, to dreams taking their flight, In the hues of North London, under day and night. For within this photograph, a narrative is spun, Of love, of life, of waiting, as the cycles are begun, A memory forever held, till the journey’s race is run.