Truly, Your Photographer
It may be just a portion
Perhaps a small detail
To get your fire scorching
Or lift your deceiving veil
One tenth of a second
The pressure of my finger
A tangible gift beckoned
It will forever linger
My quirkiness is a blessing
Oddness birthed beauty
Ingredients in my dressing
Don't harm, but rather suit me
I don't anticipate riches
At least, not by formal currency
My prize is within the stitches
Sewn together for you to see
I'm humbled by the art
I have the pleasure of showing
On your wall, Pieces of my heart
A gift that keeps bestowing
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