Saturday, 5 April 2008


If I say the words
They won't go the way I plan them to
they won't mean what I meant them to.
They will crumble like my quiet resolve

So I will write.

I will write about your eyes
their exquisite colour, and their beauty.
The blue green that is the
and measure
of a calm ocean. Maybe.

The blue on some days,
that seems like the sky
and whose flecks are golden clouds.
The sometimes-greyness
clear cut colour and radiance
like ice
But the gold, always the gold I will remember.

I wish your eyes saw me the way that I see you.
Smiling, inviting, full of humility.
Full of humour, of fun and freedom.

I see you as spirit, as happiness.

My perfect foil.
the gold on your head, in your eyes, in your skin.
The perfection.
Look my way again with your eyes,
and I will make you laugh.
And I will watch you glow like an angel should.
My gemstone.

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