I can stare at you all day,
Though people say
     That love is blind.
And love is blind for me, for me,
Only for we have faith
     To live by.

I love the thought that eyes can be
Windows, that I’m starting
To fashion an idea
To serenade the feminine soul
     With the chivalrous heart,
With all strings of it,
     Of its acoustic guitar.

Seeing your eyes–
     The daughters of their parent dreams,
How they looked at something
Less prettier than them
For more than twenty years,
How they stared at someone
Much prettier than them
On bodies of water,
And at the face on the mirror,
     And at the very heart of God,
Seeing how their glances at me,
Excite me, terribly, (though having no coffee)
     Into palpitations,

Hunching that their closing
     Are just as equally endearing
As when they are opened,
Smiling, for the love-blind to see,
I realize, I understand, sweetly,
     Why two gaze-bound stars
     Are blinking, beautifully…
          …apart.*

© 2015 J.S.P.