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Photographer's
Progress
I
remember, I remember, the Brownie I once had,
The
little window where I peered when I was just a lad.
A
magic box of tricks it seemed, that present from my Dad.
About
correct exposure, I had never yet been told;
The
rules of composition would no doubt have left me cold.
I
snapped away without a care - I wasn’t very old.
Time
passed. I bought a camera
with lots of knobs and screw;
I
read in photographic books the things one shouldn’t do;
The
number of the shots I took grew less the more I knew.
For
seldom did I seem to get the conditions right
The
clouds were wrong or maybe the direction of the light
And
days that were not far too dull were mostly much too bright.
So
now I own a camera with shining knobs galore,
But
almost it would seem I don’t take photos any more,
(And
sometimes I have wished I had my Brownie as before.)
1956
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