One small step.....

"It's disgusting", said the woman, as she quivered with rage on being asked her opinion of the anticipated moon landing. "Have they nothing better to do?"
"Well, no," I said aloud, to the woman's television image, fifty years after she had spoken. "In 1969, they HAD nothing better to do." Like, what else had they to do in the decade defined by space travel? And it makes me proud that I was born in that there decade, that I was a child of the space race. This week, I have grown addicted to those eerie images of the past, the gas-guzzling cars and the psychedelic clothing, the steam-punky technology of the control centres, the filled ashtrays nestling over monochrome screens locked into grey metal casing. More striking still are the fashions, the male suits and shirts looking cool and contemporary alongside the dated bouffant hairstyles and cats' eye sunglasses of the women. Such an event could only have happened in summer, the Apollo 11 rocket towering against the metaphorical blue skies' backdrop, intent faces trained on Cape Kennedy absorbing the extraordinary events with the same aplomb as they licked their ice-creams. And I punched the air and screamed aloud on seeing the lunar module test flight without its covering of tin foil. Believe me, today's drones are its direct offspring....more to follow.

Essence of Summer

The shopping mall is filled with bustle,
Peeling skin and bright-red faces
Van McCoy is playing The Hustle
Sun-browned limbs in public places – suddenly, it’s summer.

Refracted vistas; walls that waver
Bright-blue sky and plane delayed
Lip sunscreen with fruity flavour
We only find respite in shade–that’s just summer.

Braided hair and straw sunbonnet
Rose-pink dawn and evening stars
A broken flip-flop, jewels upon it
Melting tarmac, dusty cars– bring on summer.

Long, bright days and ice-cream sundae
Salty snacks and cool, sweet drinks
Short, dark night and boredom, Monday
Flaming oranges, shocking pinks –good ol’ summer.

Bright-green salads, dressings oily,
Polka dots on painted nails
Strawberries, cream and paper doily
Stripy beach bag, wind-blown sails – celebrating summer.

Swimming parties by the river,
Gentle breezes, yellowed grasses
Icy water makes us shiver
Clinking cubes in cocktail glasses: we love summer.

Sweaty nights and shirts are sticky
Lightening forks and violent thunder
Broken sleep with dreams so icky
Downpours sudden and – no wonder; it’s summer.

All too soon, maybe tomorrow
The bright sun fades, the darkness conquer
Season’s joy will turn to sorrow
And that is when we will long for – summer.