Eyes of Emerald

His eyes are a blue, greenish grey,

He’d never have just one color, they flow together; always trying to change.

So take me to the emerald city of precious sights to see,

Not the one from the story, but your eyes that are glowingly green.

Beautiful as ever, I imagine the fresh grass of your eyes are open fields for my invitation;

How lucky I am to behold the luscious iris of your soul with admiration.

However, some days I notice the lids of white lead to a plain grey island.

No man’s land, I know if I search long enough, I will find a rock waiting to be cracked into a diamond.

Your eyes are to be chiseled into happy green leprechauns,

With the temper of a red-head Irish man, you then you turn me on.

I yearn for that look in your eye, the sign of some scale of emotion,

The turning waves of blue come across your eyes as an ocean.

I always know when you’re feeling down, or are a little blue,

It shows in your face; I see it in your eyes and through

Your whole outlook on life.

This is why you need me, “I’m not a witch I’m your wife!”

I am here to provide references, inside jokes, and banter for your entertainment

If I cause you to laugh, I know those two shades of emerald will come to an arrangement.

Now when you choose to let those colors blend it is a work of art; a masterpiece.

I have witnessed this once; the bright comfort of feeling at peace.

So please darling, show this just for me,

Will you smile and let out those delicate eyes of grey, blue, and emerald green?

Rambles of a Poethead