Your Eyes

Your eyes
The warm fresh green
Of a newly budded tree at dawn
The spring rain's cleansing touch.

Your eyes
The fresh clean blue of the sky
At the end of a perfect summer day
Lying on the sand at the beach
Feeling the waves wash over our feet.

Your eyes
The cold steel grey
Of the clouds at noon
Reflected off of Superiors majesty
A clear crisp autumn day.

Your eyes
All this I see
And more
When I look into your eyes

Your eyes
Your soul, open to me
Loving me
Melting with me

Written 3/28/99

Copyright 1999
Martin Ferguson

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