Four Weddings and a Camera

Four Weddings and a Camera

Four weddings and a camera,
Four white dresses, four days of love,
Four different stories beginning,
With blessings whispered from above.

He stood behind the camera,
Watching every bride walk through,
The nervous smiles, the trembling hands,
The promises of something new.

The first bride laughed with happiness,
Her eyes were shining bright,
She held her flowers close to her,
And everything seemed right.

He took the photograph,
And caught the moment in the frame,
Two people looking at each other,
Before they changed their names.

The second wedding came along,
Another dress, another room,
Another couple making promises,
Beneath a sea of flowers in bloom.

But something in the groom’s eyes,
Made the photographer pause,
The bride was smiling for the crowd,
But he could see there was a cause.

The camera doesn’t judge a thing,
It simply captures what is there,
A smile, a tear, a nervous look,
A hand that isn’t quite held with care.

The third wedding was extravagant,
Champagne and music filled the air,
Everyone was dressed to impress,
And cameras flashed everywhere.

The bride looked like a princess,
The groom stood proudly by her side,
But when the crowd had turned away,
He saw the bride quietly cry.

He didn’t know the reason,
And it wasn’t his to know,
He simply took the photograph,
And watched the evening go.

Then came the fourth wedding,
The one he never would forget,
Because the moment that he captured,
Was the happiest he’d seen yet.

They weren’t surrounded by riches,
There were no crowds demanding more,
Just two people who were certain,
They had found what they’d been looking for.

He lifted up his camera,
And waited for their smile,
But what he captured in that frame,
Was something that would last a while.

Four weddings and a camera,
Four stories captured in the light,
Four couples making promises,
Four different versions of the night.

Some photographs showed happiness,
Some held secrets in their eyes,
Some looked perfect on the outside,
While hiding little lies.

He learned through all those weddings,
That love isn’t always what you see,
A photograph can capture moments,
But never someone’s destiny.

Years later he looked back again,
At every photograph he’d taken,
Some marriages had lasted,
Some promises had been broken.

But every picture still remained,
A frozen moment in its place,
Four weddings, four beginnings,
And four stories in each face.

And he still kept that camera,
Though the weddings had moved on,
Because photographs remember,
Long after people have gone.