Your eyes had all the intricate details,
a throbbing wash up of a shore,
a child gives push to the little sail,
and the lump in my throat,
is ministrant to your tail,
to your being of so fragile,
You're the eyes of this slow,
we just met so some-how.

Author -  Ryan Geoffrey Hayward
With his allowance of it.
Please don't re-post.