Sometimes I feel
Like an arty farty fraud
Looking wonderingly at
The shapes of leaves
The way the light hits
The arch of a stem
The emotions evoked by a flower
The thrill of contrast of bee against pink petals
All with this new photographer’s eye
I don’t even know the right words for
Art & culture yet I am
Composing poetry as I walk
I’m an imposter in this world
Of photographs and poetry
Yet it was aways there inside
Smothered under a pillow of practicality
but now I am finding myself
I am blossoming out
And I like who I am
