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My Prince, King, Guardian, Keeper

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A winters tale of a slightly different kind

The lady in the picture is someone I've christened Aurora, but she does not play centre-stage in this portrait, this is more to do with the person to the right, a prince of men

I named Phillip... and this is why.


The warm glow of Christmas

We are soon approaching a time when Christmas trees are dressed, warm fires heat our homes, furnished chairs provide comfort, it all creates a welcoming ambience for this yuletide season.   However, the Christmas fern in this picture will not be dressed this year, there be no lights, no baubles, no pretty fairy on top.  There will be no warm glow from burning wood embers and a hard park bench replaces that padded sofa and pillows you might or maybe used to at home.

The book... definitely not a fairytale
Look closely at the picture and you will discover that Auroras has a book titled ‘The Music of the Spheres’ its a fictional plot aptly set in London 1795, the written reviews state a tale of intrigue, human revolution, obsessive and passion… but looking towards the bench this day... I wondered what was their story?

Snug as a bug on a bench

Momentarily snug… the nightmare of sleeping rough will soon enough unfold.   No 12 tog duvet, no duck feather pillows, the blankets don't smell of  fabric conditioner either.  The harsh reality; hard wooden slats of a park bench, a thin blue faded sleeping bag and a few covers thrown in for temporary fools gold comfort.  But, amid the cold autumnal snap she feels strangely warmed, for by her side is her guardian, the sentry to her gate, the likened Egyptian Sphinx that stands guard over the great pyramids.  This man for this moment is her protector, he offers some small contentment and comfort as temperatures have dropped to a cold 10 degrees Celsius.  


This man Phillip

Was he her boyfriend, husband, lover or was he just a friend or perhaps even dare I say it... father.  It was not my place to judge or question the relationship, I just simply took the pictures accurately and quickly.  However, I had recognized that the composition of this photograph, regrettably made it a compelling and beautiful portrait... it was in every sense a perfect example of the transient savage beauty of life.  


Was Phillip was shielding ones own pain and suffering

Aurora for the moment sleeps soundly, Phillip is the polar opposite.  I believe Phillip was silently and valiantly covering up his own distress and mental suffering.  He seemed to have all the trials and tribulations of life upon his shoulders, the stress was almost leaching into his flesh and bones, taking a grave toll in this poor mans tortured face and features.   He looked like he was fighting the very thought of sleep, his body for now, no willing victim for ravages of severe sleep deprivation.  In slow motion his head nods this way and that, then forwards and then backwards, but still he refuses to let the steal doors of his eyelids fully shut.  He dare not totally close his eyes for fear... fear that if he slept, he would wake and she would no longer be there.   At least whilst he was semi-vigilant and watchful... no harm, distress or trauma would become her.  


Heroes come in all shapes and guises

I must confess that you can never actually or fully foretell a persons life or momentary circumstances, but he seemed to strike a somewhat heroic prose.  Whoever he was and whatsoever their relationship, he genuinely and humanly cared and seemed devoted and protective towards her.  Perhaps ill even dare I say it... he unmistakably and undeniably loves this sleeping beauty.

May God bless you both!

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