What I still and will continue to love about your eyes are...
the multitudes of hues and moods embedded within
Gripping abundant roots of attractive backwoods
and memorable fruits beside a glass of sweating beer that is on its way to finding room temperature
To name a short plethora of goods
Not to mention but rhyming about Emotions that ensue
from a few
all inclusive spring rays shining into branches of oak and cedar needles
painting shadowy sharps on the
greening blades
cast out under and around them
Summery flares shot between the solar
sparking luminescence
Shutters of blue steam breathing when winter is looming and when it has come
I don’t even need to mention fall
since I would wager
Mother Nature stole every grade and color
from your visionary pair of awareness
Like a psychedelic alchemist enhancing each wordless life form into artistry
From her droppers of autumn in associated definition
anyone sees when thinking of the 3rd quarter
From trickling infrequency of leaves falling
spread out on course
with all end-of-the-line runnings of any pillow top creek
sweeping across the horizon tiring out in a dry bed of mossy river rock
These are what I still
and
will continue to love about your eyes
and the day will come
when someone will ask
requesting me
not to write about them again
Opens the arsenal
for the most tragically moving poetic scribblings
leaving their ring
in the dust with her silent questioning
“What in the ****
and
The meaninglessness of their dollars spent
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 12:57 PM UTC
What I still and will continue to love about your eyes are...
the multitudes of hues and moods embedded within
Gripping abundant roots of attractive backwoods
and memorable fruits beside a glass of sweating beer that is on its way to finding room temperature
To name a short plethora of goods
Not to mention but rhyming about Emotions that ensue
from a few
all inclusive spring rays shining into branches of oak and cedar needles
painting shadowy sharps on the
greening blades
cast out under and around them
Summery flares shot between the solar
sparking luminescence
Shutters of blue steam breathing when winter is looming and when it has come
I don’t even need to mention fall
since I would wager
Mother Nature stole every grade and color
from your visionary pair of awareness
Like a psychedelic alchemist enhancing each wordless life form into artistry
From her droppers of autumn in associated definition
anyone sees when thinking of the 3rd quarter
From trickling infrequency of leaves falling
spread out on course
with all end-of-the-line runnings of any pillow top creek
sweeping across the horizon tiring out in a dry bed of mossy river rock
These are what I still
and
will continue to love about your eyes
and the day will come
when someone will ask
requesting me
not to write about them again
Opens the arsenal
for the most tragically moving poetic scribblings
leaving their ring
in the dust with her silent questioning
“What in the ****
and
The meaninglessness of their dollars spent
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