Alan Bruce Thompson
The Picture Gallery
I've been in the frame a while now.
I'm taut and I'm very thin and covered in paint.
I'm more than the canvas. I'm also the painting.
During the day they stream past me and point.
Sometimes I follow with my eyes until some child notices.
The parents never listen to their children.
If they did I might need to put out my tongue.
Clever painter who allows me to change each day.
I do this while the custodian is away.
From old to young, woman with beard, man with mole,
I change at will, from equator to pole.
What most visitors to galleries do not know
Is that in the middle of the night it's always so!
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Comments about this poem (The Picture Gallery by Alan Bruce Thompson )
- 15 April 2014, Shri R Brahma
- because you doubted it, RIC S. BASTASA
- The curving world's edge (Passion Sonnet), Gert Strydom
- Could My Calm Coax You, Susan Lacovara
- At times we are only set on passing (Ame.., Gert Strydom
- The Implementation Is Seldom Unchanged, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- Clean India Campaign, Dr John Celes
- Holy Journey, Col Muhamad Khalid Khan
- MISSION, Col Muhamad Khalid Khan
- Life's Numbers, Randy McClave
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