Love comes in many forms. My little poem this month celebrates a couple of them. I celebrate the manifest love a girl feels for a tiny bird upon her hand. In this moment, she is captivated. It is as if, for a timeless instance, during which they each illuminate the other. nothing else exists, But another form of love’s in play - a father's love for his daughter. She's grown up now, but here she still is – an innocent girl, my daughter, entranced by a bird. I too am captivated. Perhaps that's what love's all about? Still Life A moment it was and a moment still is when colours come live soft life radiates and lightness descends to surprise and delight one who is loving observant and awestruck whose open hands gentle a wonder of nature sensing perfection warm in the sunshine a golden girl glows blessed by a fledgling just for a moment a moment of stillness before each flies away