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T H E P I C T U R E
O U T S I D E
T H E F R A M E
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Sloping hills and light blue skies,
Golden maples on the left…
In the distance the falcon flies,
And a stream runs quietly by.
A girl she sits under the tree,
Hair as red as burnished gold…
She seems happy & kind of free…
Except you're not there,
And always will be…
The picture outside the frame.
Now the sky is red and laced with gold,
Two lovers in the sunset.
They walk & through the grounds they strolled,
United once again.
A sweet goodbye that's of the past,
They are once more in embrace…
A blissfulness that is to last…
Except you're not there,
And always will be…
The picture, outside the frame.
Another girl, another picture,
Of stunning light blue eyes.
Her hair of gold and face unsure,
She charms the passersbys.
But still she looks, outside the paints,
So careless of her beauty.
So innocent, alive and pure…
Except that you're not there,
And always will be…
The picture, outside the frame.
A painting white and silver edged,
Portray a Celtic spirit.
A guardian to his honor pledged,
To look over another.
Hs massive form guards well and true,
His faith knows no mortal bounds.
All threats and dangers, all he slew,
Except that you're not there.
And always will be…
The picture, outside the frame.
A portrait of the greatest art,
All framed in purest gold.
The face intelligence, did impart,
His features sharp and bold.
His eye of deepest sapphire blue,
His hair of raven's wings.
His face a Chopin Impromptu;
Elegant…and fair…
Except that you're not there.
And shall never be.
And always will be…alone…
The picture.
Outside.
The Frame.
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A/N Please review!