Let me tell you about this idea I had for a picture.
The scene takes place on a hill,
A nice gently rolling hill.
Its night, but the sky isn't black.
Its night, but the grass is still vibrant.
The sky is pinpricked with stars,
And the grass is littered with flowers,
Lazily scattered about.
There's explosions in the sky,
Fireworks forever captured in time.
There's a cloud there in the left,
Tucked up in a corner.
Snow flakes drift dizzily,
Slowly falling down to the ground.
There's a tree on top of the hill,
But the tree has been dead some ten odd years.
But it is not bereft of beauty,
For the Girl sits on its branches.
She's waiting,
Waiting for the one who calls her Love.
On the right, where the sky meets the earth,
You can see a town far in the back.
Just a minuscule series of buildings,
Too small to draw any real attention.
But if you pay attention,
Look real close now,
There's a silhouette of a plane just above it.
The one who calls her Love is on that plane.
The Girl is smiling, looking at the plane.
She knows who it holds.
She can feel it,
The way animals can tell
Which bush holds sweeter berries.
She's been waiting for years.
There's a tear running down her cheek,
Set off course, due to the smile on her lips.
The one who calls her Love has been away.
He's been gone to far off lands,
Preaching truth and right.
And now he's finally home.
The moon is absent,
But there's a slight glow about the Girl.
Her hand is stretched out to the plane,
To the one who calls her Love.
In her other hand are letters.
There's a necklace around her neck,
And a bracelet on her wrist.
And she knows that soon enough,
There'll be a ring on her finger.
Highschool sweethearts, they are.
Lovely, isn't it?
Its not quite finished.
Its still being fabricated.
Thats the picture as it stands right now.
Could be that the Girl will be crying
By the one who calls her Love's grave.
Maybe the Girl will find someone better.
What do I know, though?
Im just the artist.
I have no say over what I paint,
Same way a poet doesnt know
What they will write until they start.
I think Im going to start painting, though.
Its doubtful things will change.
Im certain Love and I will stay together,
Forever.
