Melbourne Candid Series #1144 The Causeway

 

Upon The Causeway, still she sits,
In Melbourne’s hush where shadow knits
The woven light of afternoon
Into a monochrome cocoon.

A café chair, a frame of grace,
She lifts her eyes, a silent face
Held fast by thought, or winds unseen,
That stir the mind where none have been.

No coffee touched, no glance returns—
Only the distant skyline burns
Its outline through the softened grey
Of half-spent time and slipping day.

Her coat hangs loose, her hair undone,
The city moves, but she is one
With something past the tramline’s end,
A lost, invisible old friend.

She does not blink. The hour grows thin.
The world continues crowding in—
But on that chair she drifts apart,
A grayscale ghost with pulsing heart.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 898

Melbourne Candid Series #1143 Collins St

 

A man had his cheek supported by his right hand in front of apple laptop on collins st cafe looking beyond side way in melb

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 897

Melbourne Candid Series #1142 Collins St

 

On Collins Street beneath the grey,
Where shopfronts line the silent way,
A youth stood still, mid city stream,
As trams rolled past in muted gleam.

She held a cup, still steaming white,
Its warmth between the morning light
And spoke, with eyes both bright and kind,
To one whom age had made refined.

Her silver hair, her coat drawn neat,
A cane beside her careful feet,
She listened as the young man said
Some gentle thought, some word unsaid.

The world passed by in shades of grey,
But in their pause, the time gave way
Two strangers held in quiet grace,
A fleeting moment, face to face.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 896

Melbourne Candid Series #1141 The Causeway

 

A bald waiter moves with silent grace,
Wiping down each coffee trace.
On the Causeway where footsteps blend,
He tends the tables end to end.

A flick of cloth, a tilted plate,
He works beneath the café's weight.
The city's hum, the clink of cups,
The morning slowly gathering up.

No spotlight shines, no curtain call,
Yet in his rhythm, dignity tall.
A quiet craft, no need for fame—
Just honest work beneath his name.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM 

Check out Candid 895

Melbourne Candid Series #1140 Exhibition St

 

A little boy rides his scooter slow,
Wheels whisper soft on streets below.
Across Exhibition, bold and wide,
He glides with wonder, dad by his side.

Monochrome holds the city still,
Time in grayscale bends to will.
Shadows stretch, the tram bells chime,
They move as if outside of time.

His father’s hand, a steady guide,
Through crosswalks where the moments bide.
A boy, a scooter, a world to claim—
In black and white, he writes his name.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 894

Melbourne Candid Series #1139 Hosier Lane

 

A middle-aged man on Hosier Lane,
With cobblestones beneath his stride,
A cap pulled low, sunglasses plain,
He walks where colours dare to hide.

One hand tucked in his coat’s deep fold,
The other swinging free and slow,
Through art-stained walls, both bright and bold,
He moves where silent watchers go.

The city hums, but he walks still,
A shadow shaped by time and will.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 893

Melbourne Candid Series #1138 Hosier Lane

 

On Hosier Lane where the murals breathe,
A man walks uphill with sunlight sheathed—
Gleaming shades on his silent face,
Each step wrapped in the lane’s embrace.

His wife beside, her hand in his own,
Two shadows stretching on cobblestone.
She leans like memory, soft and near,
He leads like time with nothing to fear.

The walls around burst wild with hue,
But they move quiet, just passing through—
A moment framed in a painted land,
Love uphill, hand in hand.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 892 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1137 Little Lonsdale St

 

On Little Lonsdale, under silver skies, he stands
A bald man in suit, with upturned eyes and hands.
A microphone clutched like a herald’s call,
Words poised to rise above city’s sprawl.

A leather strapbag hugs his side, worn deep,
Stories stitched in folds it’s sworn to keep.
The satchel slung with a scholar’s grace,
Heavy with maps of a wandering place.

He does not speak, but listens to air,
To trams that sing and the footfall’s prayer.
In the hush between towers’ glass and stone,
He finds a pulpit in being alone.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 891

Melbourne Candid Series #1136 Collins St

 

On Collins Street they walked as two,
Beneath the sky of cloud and blue.
Their steps were slow, their silence deep,
As though they bore a care they’d keep.

The husband wore his dark disguise,
His sunglasses veiling thoughtful eyes.
While on her head, in morning glare,
Her shades lay tangled in her hair.

Together yet each mind alone,
They wandered through the heart of stone—
In Melbourne's light, their shadows cast,
By present fears and echoes past.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 890

Melbourne Candid Series #1135 Swanston St (before winter this year)

 

Upon Swanston Street, where footsteps meet,
A lone man walks in midday heat.
With earphones snug and singlet white,
He strides ahead, lost from all sight.

The city's hum fades to a tone,
For in his world, he walks alone.
Eyes widely shut, no glance is thrown—
This is his hour, he is the zone.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 889 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1134 Swanston St

 

In the sun, she moves with quiet grace,
A pram before her, steady pace.
Down Swanston Street where footsteps flow,
Through the city’s midday glow.

The crowd surges, a restless stream,
Shadows flit and windows gleam.
But she — a calm within the tide,
With a plaid of hair swung to one side.

The tram bell rings, the pigeons stir,
Yet all the world slows down for her.
A mother’s rhythm, firm yet light,
Carving day from neon light.

Melbourne pulses, grand and wide,
But still she walks, with time beside.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 888

Melbourne Candid Series 1132 Bourke St Mall

 

Laughter on Bourke

He sat in sun, a man of years,
With laughter loud that chased the fears,
In sunglasses, his joy a flare
That split the noon with blazing care.

Beside him, quiet, his small young son,
A shadow short beneath the sun,
Looked up as if to catch the fire
That lit his father's brief desire.

The street around, a surging tide,
With trams and heels and time's long stride,
Yet in that pause the world stood still—
Just sun and blood, and love’s goodwill.

A city’s heart beat all around,
But sweeter was that human sound:
A father's laugh, deep-cut and real,
That spoke what mouths can’t always feel.

On Bourke they sat, mid noon’s wide sprawl,
Two lives adrift, yet held by all—
By sunlight, kinship, breath, and grace,
And joy that time cannot erase.

Sony A7RV

FE 135mm f1.8 GM

Check out Candid 886 This has been one of the top 10 favorite posted on my blog here

Melbourne Candid Series #1131 Bourke St Melb

 

(Same poem as yesterday)

A youth with mullet trailing wild,
A cap hung low, the city’s child,
Stood firm where footsteps throng and blur,
His violin his saboteur.

With rosined bow and eyes cast low,
He summoned tunes both fast and slow,
Each note a cry, a silver thread
Unspooling dreams the street had shed.

Behind him flowed the tram’s refrain,
Its bell a chime through smoke and rain,
While cars crawled past in tangled streams,
Oblivious to his stitched dreams.

He played not for applause or coin,
But for the world he might rejoin—
Where echoes rise through autumn's breath,
And songs outlive the hush of death.

Bourke watched in greys and neon hue,
As music flared and nightfall grew.
The crowd passed by, then circled round—
A boy, a bow, defying sound.

Sony A7RV

FE 135mm f1.8 GM

Check out 

Melbourne Candid Series #1130 Violin player on Bourke St Mall Melb

 

A youth with mullet trailing wild,
A cap hung low, the city’s child,
Stood firm where footsteps throng and blur,
His violin his saboteur.

With rosined bow and eyes cast low,
He summoned tunes both fast and slow,
Each note a cry, a silver thread
Unspooling dreams the street had shed.

Behind him flowed the tram’s refrain,
Its bell a chime through smoke and rain,
While cars crawled past in tangled streams,
Oblivious to his stitched dreams.

He played not for applause or coin,
But for the world he might rejoin—
Where echoes rise through autumn's breath,
And songs outlive the hush of death.

Bourke watched in greys and neon hue,
As music flared and nightfall grew.
The crowd passed by, then circled round—
A boy, a bow, defying sound.

Sony A7RV

FE 135mm f1.8 GM

Check out Candid 885

Melbourne Candid Series #1129 Bourke St Mall (Summer before winter this year)

 

A Lady on Bourke in Greying Light

Upon the cobbles of Bourke Street fair,
Where trams do hum through autumn air,
A lady passed in monochrome,
Her youth aglow though shades had grown.

She walked alone, yet not alone,
For in her ears sweet tunes had flown,
A Walkman played its whispered song,
A timeworn tape that sang along.

Her tresses curled like drifting flame,
Though black and white concealed her name,
She bore her spoils in papered grace,
From shops agleam in city’s face.

A bum bag slung with no pretense,
‘Twixt fashion’s flair and innocence,
She paused beneath the falling leaves,
As dusk drew in on gentle eves.

No winter yet, but chill in shade,
The light grew thin, yet undismayed,
She danced in step with music’s flow,
A fleeting ghost from long ago.

And though the years may swiftly pass,
Like tramlines threading panes of glass,
Still in that frame she softly stands—
A song, a stroll, two listening hands.

Sony A7RV 

FE 135mm f1.8 GM

Check out Candid 884 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1128 Hosier Lane

 

In Hosier Lane where colours clash,
Where echoes bloom from spray can’s flash,
A man stood still with cap pulled low,
A camera poised, his eyes aglow.

The walls around were wild and loud,
A canvas shouting to the crowd—
Yet he, alone, in quiet stance,
Beheld it all as if in trance.

Each line, each stroke, each painted name,
To him was more than fleeting flame.
He sought the story, raw and true,
In every burst of red or blue.

No words he spoke, no sound he made,
Just shadows moved where light would fade.
The lens, an eye, both still and wise,
Caught truth in chaos, form in cries.

And though the world just walked on by,
He watched the wall like one who’d try
To read the soul of street and stone—
A man, a cap, a craft, alone.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 883

Melbourne Candid Series #1127 Flinders St

 

On Flinders Street in winter's breath,
Where light is low and still as death,
A family walked through morning's grey,
Their shapes cast long in soft decay.

One teenage boy stepped just ahead,
His gaze afar, thoughts loosely spread.
Behind, the father pushed the pram,
Its wheels in rhythm, slow and calm.

A younger child lay nestled deep,
Half-dreaming in a winter sleep.
The city's stir passed all around,
Yet peace within that pram was found.

The mother walked with silent grace,
Dark glasses veiled her watching face.
She turned to me—no smile, no frown,
Just knowing as she looked me down.

No need for words, no need for sound,
The tramline sang, the world spun round.
And in that frame of black and white,
They carried love through morning light.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 882

Melbourne Candid Series #1126 Hosier Lane

 

In Hosier Lane where shadows dwell,
And cobbled streets their secrets tell,
A man and woman paused their stride
To gaze into the sky wide-eyed.

Graffiti flared on every wall,
Yet they saw past the painted sprawl—
Not colours bold or rebel scrawl,
But something vast beyond it all.

Their heads were tilted, side by side,
Their breath a mist the cold supplied.
In black and white the moment stayed,
Two figures caught in light and shade.

What did they seek above the stone?
A passing bird, a world unknown?
The clouds perhaps, or trailing plane,
Or simply wonder, pure, unfeigned.

No words were said, no need to speak,
The silent sky was wide and bleak.
But in that hush, as time slipped by,
They touched the edge of winter’s sky.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 881

Melbourne Candid Series #1125 Swanston St

 

Upon a bench on Swanston bare,
Mid winter’s breath and biting air,
An elder woman took her place,
The chill wind tracing 'cross her face.

A cap drawn low o’er silver strands,
A phone held firm in gloved-up hands.
Her coat was thick, her posture sure,
She braved the cold with something pure.

Beside her sat, with polished grace,
A bag that spoke of wealth and place—
Its leather gleamed, its buckles shone,
A thing of means, yet she alone.

She spoke in murmurs, calm, composed,
As trams passed by and daylight dozed.
The city swirled in greys and blacks,
While frost clung tight to tramway tracks.

She seemed a relic, firm and still,
A monument of tempered will.
While winter wrapped the world in white,
She warmed the street with quiet might.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM 

Check out Candid 880

Melbourne Candid Series #1124 Swanston St

 

Upon Swanston Street where tram bells chime,
In Melbourne’s heart and city’s prime,
A young chap stands in shirt and cap,
Beside his cart, a silver map.

His hands are quick, his manner keen,
He serves up swirls of cold and cream—
In cones like spires, in bowls like bells,
A moment’s joy his labour tells.

The footpath hums with boots and haste,
Yet here, they pause for sugared taste.
Beneath the clock, beneath the sky,
The city breathes, and time slips by.

A lady laughs, a child grins wide,
The chap with pride stands just beside.
No colours blaze—just black and white,
Yet in this frame, the world feels right.

The tram glides past with iron sigh,
A gull wheels low, then climbs the sky.
And still he stands, his trade the same—
A fleeting joy, a quiet flame.

Sony A7RV

FE 135mm f1.8 GM

Check out Candid 879