Mine are not two eyes of gold
As an ouce of blue more can be found
Don't ask as to where they look around
Every second, of every day, instead
Like a passing light, step inbetween
Ever flashing still, look back at me
In unstumbling step instead stand before
No one else will ever see
Except for thee

No more can you change
The harsh, cold, reality of winter
So much as you can
Choose to warm yourself then
When the sheen of eventual summer is sprung

Don't take the seasons personally
Like dawns and sunsets on the rise
They always come

Waiting is neither romantic nor fun
Neither easy or true
It simply is
A choice to be made
To wait is to see
To decide is to see it through

Yes, self
Reading is romantic still
If it's done by a supermodel
Sure

Noone is coming to turn your eyes like pages
Sorry

A cloud is your salvation shown
People a drug
....
In the focus of your selfless self
What wonderful distraction, who?

In looking sees just above the trees
That all is white, and gray, and blue
...
Just out of reach and occasionally seen
There is no peace, even when alone

With occasional rain and blotted sun
Such light and bouncing white renewed
...
It's a constant reminder of what is above
And what beneath you cannot do

Tasks are meant to distract the mind
Anyone who gardens by choice
To me
Is out of their own and doesn't have
Enough time, at least to think

An unpopular opinion, perhaps