Melbourne Candid Series #1102 Latrobe St

 

Through glass, I gaze where lights softly gleam,
A penthouse perch above the stream
Of La Trobe’s hum, where city sighs
Rise gently under dusking skies.

Inside, a hush before the flare—
The kitchen stirs with quiet care.
White coats move in a measured dance,
A prelude born of skill and chance.

Knives whisper, steam begins to climb,
Cocktails shimmer, caught in time.
Laughter waits in crystal’s ring,
As chefs and waiters, deft, unseen,
Prepare the night’s unfolding art—
Each plate a story, every start
A promise scented, warm, and bright,
Beneath the Melbourne evening light.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 858

Melbourne Candid Series #1100 Latrobe St

 

On LaTrobe beneath the city’s glow,
Where midnight winds begin to blow,
Two shadows drift through silver air —
A pair unlikely, bold and rare.

The elder walks with practiced grace,
A powdered dream in satin lace.
Her gown — thick velvet, regal wide,
A princess lost, yet dignified.

She wears her age like royal thread,
Like Jennifer Coolidge, softly led,
A wistful spark behind her eyes,
A woman wrapped in old goodbyes.

Beside her steps a solemn guide,
A younger soul with priestly stride.
In robes of dark, with collar tight,
She walks like silence through the night.

The city watches, traffic sighs,
As time walks past in pale disguise.
A queen, a priest, a story spun,
Where streetlights blur and trams still run.

No need for reason, rhyme, or fame —
Just two in costume, none the same.
And in their pace, the world might see
A fleeting touch of mystery.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 856 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1099 Latrobe St

 

A flicker, a blur in black and white,
LaTrobe Street hums with ghostly light.
Figures drift through evening’s haze,
Like dreams that walk in city’s maze.

Costumes swirl in shadowed gleam,
Half-seen faces from a fevered dream.
Masks and laughter, heels that glide,
Through the grayscale pulse of Melbourne’s side.

Sequins shimmer, then disappear,
Caught in headlight ghosts that veer.
A cape, a crown, a tangled wig —
Moments vanish, faint and big.

No color names the scene tonight,
Just monochrome and borrowed light.
A party spills from time and street,
Where strangers in disguise all meet.

The tram-line hums a distant song,
While blurred legs dance the night along.
And memory holds what lens can't keep —
A moving dream, half-lost in sleep.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 855

Melbourne Candid Series #1098 Latrobe St

 

Beneath the hush of Melbourne’s veil,
LaTrobe Street hums, a shadowed trail.
Neon whispers on pavement wet,
I chase the ping — the order’s set.

Through chilly air and tramlight gleam,
A silent city starts to dream.
My tires hum a steady song,
The night is quiet, deep, and long.

A streetlamp flickers, breath is steam,
This ride’s not easy, nor extreme.
Just hunger waiting, time to meet —
A warm meal flying through the street.

Backpack snug and phone aglow,
I dodge the late-night traffic flow.
A swipe, a tap, the route is near,
The quiet thrum of hunger's cheer.

No grand applause, no curtain call,
Just footsteps echoing off the wall.
But still I ride, in cold and dark,
A silent spark through city’s heart.

For every dish and doorstep light,
A rider carves the pulse of night.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 854

Melbourne Candid Series #1095 Latrobe St

 

On Latrobe Street where the echoes fall,
A winter hush cloaks over all.
A lady stands in noir attire,
Her voice a flame, her breath a fire.

Beneath her coat, the world grows still,
Each note she casts bends time and will.
Beside her, fingers strum the night—
A guitar sings of loss and light.

The city's pulse slows to her song,
A whispered place where hearts belong.
Footsteps pause in drifting air,
Drawn to music soft and rare.

In shadows deep, her chorus blooms,
A velvet sound that clears the gloom.
On Latrobe Street, the cold and gray
Are warmed by what her voice can say.

Sony A7RV 

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 851

Melbourne Candid Series #1094 Little Bourke St

 

An alley off of Little Bourke,
Where silence wraps the city's murk,
The night breathes low in amber hue,
Street lamps cast their solemn view.

Their golden halos gently fall
On cobblestones, worn smooth and small,
Each stone a story, soft and old,
Of boots and dreams, of hands grown cold.

Shadows stretch along the lane,
In quiet rhythm, soft as rain.
The city's hum is far, then near—
A breath, a step, a whisper clear.

Here secrets cling to brick and wall,
Where time forgets to move at all.
In Melbourne's heart, in hush and gleam,
The alley hums a half-lost dream.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 580

Melbourne Candid Series #1093 Latrobe St

 

Off Latrobe where city sighs,
a narrow shop in quiet lies.
The signs still blink, but softer now—
night has pressed its cooling brow.

Inside, two figures side by side
share sweet reflections, open-eyed.
A spoon dips slow through colors stacked:
green, red, gold beans gently packed.

"Three Traffic Lights," the menu said—
a playful name for what's been fed
through childhood lanes and summer's heat,
revived here on this quiet street.

The night leans in, the window's gloss
reflects them both in sugared loss,
as if the past had found a way
to join them in their glass parfait.

No need for talk, just taste and glance—
a small dessert, a brief romance
with memory, beneath the glow
of Melbourne’s hush and neon flow.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 849

Melbourne Candid Series #1092 Elizabeth St

 

Off Elizabeth, where neon hums
and tram-line dreams in silence come,
a storefront glows with muted grace,
its glass a veil, its light a face.

Inside, a stillness thick and bare—
few figures sit in twilight's care.
By tiled wall and table’s end,
they dine in hush, like time’s own friends.

Their shadows lean with gentle weight,
as if they’ve paused the hands of fate.
Steam curls soft from bowls held near,
warmth the only sound to hear.

No words disturb the breathing light,
just silhouettes against the night—
their stories hinted, not yet told,
in Melbourne’s chill, in silence bold.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 848

Melbourne Candid Series #1091 Latrobe St

 

Latrobe Street Evenings

On Latrobe Street, beneath the night’s soft sigh,
Where city lights like fireflies fly,
Three ladies sit where stories steep—
Outside the café, no time for sleep.

Steam curls from mugs of cocoa warm,
Their laughter weaves through twilight’s charm.
In shawls and smiles, the news they share
Dances gently in the brisk night air.

The trams hum low, the streetlights gleam,
Their words float out like part of a dream.
Between sips and secrets, time slips slow—
In Melbourne’s heart, under lamplight’s glow.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 847 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1089 Melbourne Central

 

Two ladies share a quiet space,
Cakes and coffee, warm embrace.
Beneath a sign that shines so bright,
In Melbourne Central’s gentle light.

Laughter lingers, soft and sweet,
Moments simple, joy complete.
A pause in time, a friendship’s art,
Savoring more than just the tart.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 845

Melbourne Candid Series #1088 Warburton

 

Up Warburton Creek, where waters gleam,
A dog walker strides, shades cool as dream.
By his side, a loyal friend,
Together on the path they wend.

Joel stands right, a friend so true,
In nature’s calm, beneath the blue.
Simple moments, quiet and bright,
Walks like these feel just right.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 844

Melbourne Candid Series #1087 Swanston St

 

Three girls walk Swanston’s busy way,
Two masked to guard, in cautious sway.
A shadow lingers, unseen but near,
Yet friendship’s light shines bright and clear.

Through Melbourne’s streets, they move with care,
Aware, alert, a silent prayer.
In masks they wear, both shield and sign—
Of strength and hope through troubled time.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 843

Melbourne Candid Series #1086 Swanston St

 

Thick jumper wraps a weary frame,
A middle-aged man, no rush, no aim.
Down Swanston Street he drifts alone,
Among the crowds, yet still unknown.

The city hums, the footsteps blend,
Each step a story, no clear end.
In worn threads wrapped against the chill,
He moves through life, steadfast and still.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 842 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1085 Swanston St

 

On Swanston Street where city sounds swell,
An Indian man, mid-step, begins to tell
A story through static, phone to ear,
His laughter soft, but bright and clear.

On the other side, a cluster stands—
School kids with backpacks, restless hands.
Their eyes are lifted, faces aglow,
At something above they yearn to know.

Perhaps it’s a tram, or a statue’s grin,
Or clouds that dream where thoughts begin.
Each child still in a world so wide,
A marvel caught on the city’s side.

And in that frame, both calm and cheer,
Life strolls by in layers clear—
A street, a glance, a drifting tone,
Where moments meet but walk alone.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Check out Candid 841

Melbourne Candid Series #1084 Swanston St

 

A young woman drifts through the noon-lit stream,
Eyes aglow with a digital dream.
Her fingers dance on a glowing screen,
Unaware of the city's breathing scene.

A slender man with a luxury sway,
Carries brands like banners on display.
His coat is tailored, his pace refined,
Chasing desire by design.

An old man walks with eyes set far,
Past trams and shops and the coffee bar.
He sees the street as it used to be—
Before it buzzed with screens and spree.

The footpath hums beneath their feet,
Time unfolding on Swanston Street.
Past and present softly blend—
Strangers passing, end to end.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 840

Melbourne Candid Series #1083 Swanston St

 

A young man stood on Swanston Street,
With hopeful eyes and restless feet.
Magazines clutched in quiet plea,
A voice half-raised to beckon me.

I met his glance, then looked away,
A silent truth too sharp to say.
He saw it then—no words were said,
Just something gentle in the head.

A flicker passed across his face,
Not anger, just a touch of grace.
The kind that knows the world is wide,
And strangers often must decide.

The crowd flowed on, the trams rolled past,
Yet in that moment, time held fast.
A story paused, then moved once more—
A quiet echo from the core.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 839

Melbourne Candid Series #1082 Presgraves Place

 

One lady steps with careful grace,
A plate of pizza in embrace.
Steam curls above the golden stack,
As warmth and scent trail gently back.

Presgrave Place lies hushed and bare,
No footfalls echo on the air.
The walls lean close in quiet pride,
As if the past still walks beside.

No cars, no haste, no flashing sign,
Just cobbled calm and muted line.
A slice of life, a fleeting scene,
Beneath the sky's soft silver sheen.

Melbourne breathes a borrowed tone,
Its lanes like corners overgrown
From Paris, Rome, or tucked-away
Cafés that hold the light of day.

And here, in hush, with simple cheer,
The lady moves, the food draws near.
A little Europe, close to home—
A lane where wanderers might roam.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 

Check out Candid 838

Melbourne Candid Series #1081 Presgraves Place

 

Two men walk side by side with grace,
Their steps in sync on Presgrave Place.
A quiet lane, a pause in time,
Where stone beneath recalls old rhyme.

Beside them hums a coffee stand,
Its sign hangs low by weathered hand.
The scent of beans, the hiss of steam,
Drifts gently through a midday dream.

The pavement holds a classic tone,
Each slab a tale, each crack well known.
Their shadows stretch, then slip away,
As if the past walks on today.

No crowd, no rush, just muted sound,
In this small place where peace is found.
A hidden thread in city’s lace—
Two men, one street, one quiet pace.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 837

Melbourne Candid Series #1080 Swanston St

 

Down a classic lane off Swanston Street,
Where echoing steps and cobbles meet,
The ceiling arches, fine and grand,
Like lacework shaped by patient hand.

Soft light filters through the mellow air,
And whispers stir the café chair.
A few souls linger, cups in hand,
In no great rush, no strict demand.

They sip, they talk, or sometimes stare,
At passersby or simply air.
Each moment hangs in quiet grace,
A hidden world, a resting place.

While just beyond, the city swells,
With tram bells, calls, and market yells—
Here peace resides, a lane apart,
Where coffee warms both hands and heart.

Sony A7RV

FE 24mm 1.4 GM

Check out Candid 837

Melbourne Candid Series #1079 Flinders Station

 

Three men strode down Flinders Street,
Their steps in time, their silence neat.
The city hummed, the trams rolled by,
As clouds hung low in Melbourne’s sky.

The middle bore a light-strewn beard,
A gentler face, composed, revered.
Each side, his mates were cleanly bare—
No bristle marked their chins with care.

A curious sight in modern age,
Where stubble speaks of style and stage.
Yet here they walked, a quiet band,
As if from some more tailored land.

No phones in hand, no hurried pace,
Just shadows shifting into place.
And Flinders watched, with windows wide,
As three men crossed from time to tide.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 835 and FACE OFF