There once was a shutterbug, name of Marie,
Who dreamed of a shot by the edge of the sea.
She packed up her gear in a flurry of pride—
Except for one thing... her tripod? Denied.
She marched to the coast at the crack of the dawn,
Her camera was prepped, her hat stylishly on.
With seagulls all posing and light just divine,
She reached for her Vanguard… and screamed, “WHERE’S MINE?!”
Her hands started shaking, her knees did the same,
The long lens was wobbly, refusing to aim.
She tried balancing gear on a slippery log,
Then cursed at a crab and a confused passing dog.
She built a weird stand out of driftwood and twine,
But it toppled and flopped like a fish out of brine.
She yelled, “I should’ve just used my own knee!”
(Which then locked in place at a terrible degree.)
A tourist passed by and gave her a stare,
"Need help with your selfie?" (She screamed, "DON'T YOU DARE.")
The sun hit the water, a perfect gold hue—
Marie snapped one photo, then sneezed... achoo!
The shot was a blur, like a whale in a sprint,
And salty frustration just added a tint.
She sighed, “Oh Vanguard, how could I forget?
You’re sturdy and strong, my three-legged pet!”
So next time you’re packing, remember this tale—
Of woe on the coast and a shot doomed to fail.
For great photography takes planning and pride—
And never forget your Vanguard tripod by your side.