Photo

A single frame, a quiet breath,
Caught in silver‑halide light,
Where moments linger, soft and still—
A photograph, a slice of night.

The shutter clicks, the world stands still,
Colours blend in muted hue,
Shadows stretch like whispered thoughts,
And every glance feels fresh and new.

From sepia‑toned streets of yesterday
To bright‑lit cafés on rainy days,
Each picture holds a story’s pulse,
A memory that time can’t erase.

So let the lens be poet’s pen,
And let the image softly speak—
For in a photograph we find
The quiet art of hearts that seek.