'Boots'

part 1

Gordon Reynolds

The engine telegraph rings and she steams full speed ahead.
Fire on my lad we will outpace the competition. Here are more with a stirrup scratch from the mounted band tromboning bravely along the quay amidst admiring crowds, leading in procession and veering around the horse drawn trams of our Queen city.

Or maybe it is a scar from night watch in the heaving mid Atlantic gale amid U boats. No seasickness permitted here for trouble looms should an engine fail.
And now the pride of the set, this pair in brilliant black, the keen nuggetty shine which walked in wedding time to proud and measured march up the aisle to the waiting beauty an independent minded high spirited bride.

See the fresh pressed suit and button hole and radiant smiles that unwittingly cover unresolved views and bunker a conflagration for later days.

But for the now there is peace and joy and happiness overwhelms.

Call soon for part 2

© Gordon Reynolds

BOOTS Boots, yes black boots.

Side by side like well worn partners with leathery soles and crinkly uppers and dangling laces.
The first pair date long ago to a lad fresh of school and barely 14 firing rough slabs the offcuts of logs from the mill into a furnace.

It feeds insatiable steam into the pulsation's of gleaming brass and shiny reciprocating steel powering long hazardous leather belts on pulleys of spinning shafts.
It radiates warmth in a sweet smell of hot oil to unappreciative hands sweating in the deafening noise of saws.

There was no timber shortage then. Forests fell and precious kauri was cheap for any purpose as men slaved to build a better place for them and their families.
Another pair is deep scratched. Some from wooden decks, some from plates of patterned steel, the coal fired engine room floors that throbbed at top speed up the Gulf.

Above deck merry rounds of day excursionists are togged in Sunday best, even freshly scrubbed for this their grand outing to Kawau.

Smoke billows astern - the ship wants the best berth and how long will the unruly stomachs of land folk stand exposed to the swing of the sea?