I woke with just a twinge of shame
your face had smiled inside a frame
at me, your Mona Lisa eyes
were young and fresh and, oh so wise.
The picture hung in my old school
where years ago, I'd been the fool.
You had, it was so very clear
lured me to you, to have me near.
The symbol here, the word called frame
brought Sigmund part of his big fame.
My dream was wild (they're never tame)
it started when you breathed my name.