There once was a young boy of thirteen years,
who loved a girl with blue eyes shining bright;
he was her world and she was his light;
one was complete when the other was near.

With strawberry milkshake faces and linked lollipop hands,
they walked the Pacific beach, overcome with smitten smiles,
enscribing their names in the rusty, copper sand
"A promise," they said, as the ocean kissed the land

"I'll be with you regardless of the miles"


and with this, he gifted her the world, it was sealed,
tragedy approaches slowly, but can't penetrate love's shield.

When the teacher's back was turned, he would pass her notes,
simple poems composed by his heart;
one wrote;

"Roses are red, violets bloom high,
the world won't suffice, let me give you the sky"


At home, her beautiful blue eyes cried.

Under the stars they sat, tender soul mates, two of a few,
he didn't understand, a lost child, confused and bare,
her wig fell into her lap, locks of beautiful blonde hair,
looking into her blue eyes he breathed, "I love you"

and with that sacred declaration, the sky belonged to her
with devotion as sure as the sunrise, warmer than mink fur

Later that month, on one incandescent night,
they sat on the moonlit shores, as the western wind sighed
her head on his shoulder, smiling, closing her big blue eyes,
silhouettes upon the sands, holding each other tight

As she slept, as the nightingales fly,
she dreamed of him, her entire world and sky,
never waking up, though a smile graced her lips
with his poem held snug in her delicate grip

"Roses are red, violets bloom high..."



Now a married man of sixty-four, he dreams by and by,
of the two walking the Pacific beach, overcome with smitten smiles,
her childish laugh resounds like heavenly songs in the sky,
for he was her world and she was his light;

in the sun, her beautiful blue eyes shining bright,
in the stars, her beautiful blue eyes shining bright