My Eyes

What do you see in my eyes?

How do you find the lovely Spies?

That you know are fixed on you

And on your lips with much ado.

Why do you like to gaze?

Into my sight and my face?

What do you think lies

Through the world in my eyes?

Is matter all black and white?

Or do colours shine through my eyes?

Are they of heavenly hues?

Or pilgrims paying their dues?

In all of the land and skies,

They see no truth nor lies.

Just the in-bet

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ween of all sides

The paradox in day and night.

They are partial though, my eyes!

When they see your handsome sight.

And there is no middle ground,

There’s only you, no other sound.

But then you kiss them goodbye

And they know they cannot cry.

For the sake of the world you saw

Through the orbs rich and raw.

And so, they shall hold on

Until your view has further gone.

And then they must only cherish

The memories that cannot perish.