Depth of field

Never ever do it my friend
despite what the books or the experts tell
Lower depth of field
 Blur the background they'd say

 But

 Sans the trees
and their shadows long on her face
 to soften the blush
of that kiss unexpected

 Sans the waves rushing
 like school children at the last bell
Without the fishing boat drifting at the horizon
like a hesitant debutante to the dance floor
on that evening
of perfect Sunset
and many tales

 is it still her?
is it still you?

 For every little span,
we dying
a few thousand times
being born with
and one with
The milieu and the time
that we stand in
To blur all that
and focuss on the face
Is to crop
 thy self
and loose the details