Sometimes when you walk

Hand in hand

With a good friend

You reach a crossroad.


You go around in circles.

Two steps down his path,

Two steps down your path.



Then you hug and let go.

You step on your own path,

And your two hands

Are alone.



A photographer

*A photographer*


I am a photographer.

I see the world

Through the lens.

Birthday parties.

Smash cakes.



Everyone poses.

The pretty girls want to look

Even prettier in pictures.

The happy girls want to look

Even happier in pictures.

All smiles.


But my favorite people

To photograph

Are children.

They don’t pretend

To be happy.

They just are.


– Zornitsa


This poem is inspired by a friend of mine who is a family photographer. She is amazing & loves children. I think it takes a special kind of person to take family photos because one must not only be good with the camera but also be good with children, be funny and make them laugh and smile 🙂 That way the whole process is a fun experience for everyone and you end up with beautiful, happy pictures!


*The church by the flower market*

*The church by the flower market*


She was sitting on the sidewalk,

Watching as people walk by-

The old lady in the flower market.

She reminded me of my grandma.


Same wise eyes,

Same smile.

Gerbera daisies, grandma’s favorite.

I bought some flowers but didn’t know


What to do with them,

So I left them at the altar

In the little church by the flower market.

I think God understood.




Sometimes, somehow

*Sometimes, somehow*

The years go by,
Running through your fingers,
And forming memories.

Sometimes, somehow,
A memory comes up.
A part of who you were.

It passes through your mind,
Goes into your eye
And tears it up.


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