- Books, Literature, and Writing
Confessions of a Romantic
Lighting is a profound, yet subtle key
Of great importance in photography.
Facial expressions, shadows, and backlight
Can make or break, or turn day to night.
Such was the case a week ago
When lights were dim, yet apropos.
Two decades past, then and now
If I had mentioned it, you’d disavow.
We travelled from room to room that day
And I saw you then, and it was come what may.
All that was missing was the bob you wore
Perhaps in time, you will restore.
I’d missed most of the layout of those rooms,
I must confess my eyes were on you.
The walls and windows went unseen
For I was elsewhere, in another dream.
Shadows were cast late afternoon,
I seized those moments, most opportune,
And I saw another time and place that day,
You missed my smile, your eyes were away.
Now if I ask you to repeat
What I missed last week, so resplete
You’ll not think me forgetful or senile,
Looking at you was more worthwhile.
Call me a dreamer, in my own mind,
Your age has treated you more than kind.
For what matters to me is everything I see
And it makes your life so much closer to me.
Spare those flushed, now tanned cheeks
The embarrassed and giddy schoolchild techniques,
And let me smile in present pride,
As old-fashioned and coy is my guide.
For what you know and are yet to see,
Is what makes the silence, yet truth of me.
Every moment that we spend is so precious
For you are so rare and completely unpretentious.
The longer we walk, the more we will see
For life is filled with imminent beauty.
Nothing that matters ever goes smoothly,
As long as that life is meant to include me.
© 2015 Deb Hirt