A Lanzarote Lensman

first thing we return to the Jable where 

last night as the waxing moon looked down

and you were experimenting with different lenses

capturing the view towards Teguise, Nazarat and Famara

and using your dusty tripod to steady your camera

you froze a moment - to reveal just how rich is our reality 

and how you lost yourself in your lensman's focus

unconsciously you balance elements of design: 

a line, a shape and a form and a texture; 

a pattern, a colour, and a space

you photograph exactly what you love -

from the minutiae of the salt on the west wind to

the vastness of the cliffs of Famara and the stars beyond and 

so begins a lensman's journey from focus to finish

vista, ocean, sky, volcanos, fields, white painted towns

and you, chronicler of our life and our new island

with your two bags of equipment as last night

we trailed past the entourage at the sociedad bar

with their cañas and their copas of vino tinto

and tapas, out for a Friday night booze-up

whilst you capture a story that we fail to put into words

but now there is nobody about on this early morning

just me and you and your lensman's focus

with your Canon you have taught me to see without a camera -

in your faded brown T-shirt and grey jogging bottoms

half-mast with your bony ankles and flip-flops

your home-cut hair neatly tousled 

how good it all feels