She had pretty blue eyes,
the color of the sea
and the midnight sky.
They twinkle like stars,
like galaxies,
and swim like mermaids,
like flying fish.
Pretty blue eyes,
the color of sadness.
God, they were too beautiful
too beautiful to be sad.
God, they were so beautiful,
he did not know they were sad.
And God, they were beautiful.
You see,
when she cried,
her tears would dance.
They would dance ballads and ballets.
Her cries were elegant and strong.
And when she cried,
her tears would fly.
They would fly birds and bridges.
Her cries were so beautiful.
He wanted to catch her eyes
and play with dolphins like a child,
and kiss the heavens like a good man,
and chase the moon like a sea,
and wonder with eyes like stone.
Those pretty blue eyes,
he thought,
oh the things to see,
oh the things to taste,
oh the things to touch,
oh the things to hear
with those pretty blue eyes.
YOU ARE READING
bluebird
Poetry"There is something about the blue," she whispered, and her starry blue eyes flew away into the blue skies. But they were so beautiful, he could not tell whether it was day or night.
