Picture

An ordinary thing to sit on a shelf,
Quite common and familiar.
Explainable in a thousand different ways,
Yet each way is so much similar.
Watching me watching you,
Reminding me of a cool crisp breeze.
Suddenly I feel myself standing there,
Hearing the wind as it blows the leaves.
Sweaty palms beneath a general pocket,
I had forgotten about the sweet cold.
I can smell Winter draw near then leave,
And I missed the picture of the snow.
For snow it did and covered me,
Then melted with the spring.
While blooming daizies filled the field,
The birds began to sing.
I forgot the picture of the Spring,
And passed it by before aware.
Then watch it fall off to the floor,
And left a place so bare.
Reading my mind, digging in my thoughts,
As you so expectingly see me.
See me for me, am I all that you need?
Then spring has passed me so suddenly.
And so comes the heat, that passionate beat,
Drumming between our acceptance.
My legs spread, tracing deep creavaces,
Leaving my skin with your essence.
Lay your head down to hear that soft sound,
Echoing that song in a murmer.
And so how it seems, to fly in the dream,
And I lost that picture of summer
Now a circle is made, and Autumn may live,
And cover the frame with it's memory.
Remembering detail, etching in my brain.
And I lost that picture of me.