The Photographer Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

A lens crazy guy he clicks at fast pace
At all leisurely moment, available recess,
Faces, landscapes, each fragment of life
Untiringly imaging his children and wife.
At home, when away, his eyes are on the look
For hunting out objects from the darkest nook
He freezes everything nothing escapes his lens
Sunlight and shadows and season’s first rains.
Years roll by his bag of catch brims full
He clicks away in passion with one simple rule
That none of his shots should ever include him
Only preserve in its frame each passing dream.