The golden sunlight shine on your hair,
The gleam in your eyes as you grin,
The hustle and bustle and confusion at
fairs,
That’s what photographs miss.
The sound of our laughter – all muddled
together,
The birds singing up in the trees,
The insects humming in the heather,
That’s what photographs miss.
The scent of old books and plays,
Of honey and flowers,
Car headlights going by in a noisy daze,
That’s what photographs miss.
For a still image – as great as they may
be,
Will never compare to the real scene.
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