The Photographer

You always seek that perfect scene
In early morning light,
Or try for some enchanting pose
Before that bird takes flight.

A steepled church in some small town,
The bloom of life in Spring,
The time worn lines in someone's face,
A raptor on the wing.

You search for that elusive image
Faithfully and try
To show the simple naked truth
Seen through the camera's eye.

How many times have you prepared
For that unique sunrise
That's painted there with Nature's brush
In early morning skies?

And as you see the days' events
Unfolding through your lens,
A witness to Life's drama
As that light refracts and bends,

Your practiced eye takes in these scenes,
And then upon some page,
You'll reproduce that speck of time,
Saved for some future age.

So you'll continue on your quest
For Kodak's holy grail,
And as you seek that sacred cup
Upon a well worn trail,

You'll travel down that path in life
With no regrets or blame,
Recording hist'ry as it's made
With pictures, frame by frame.