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Eyes Painting Love
Of a sunny Sunday morning,
a sunbeam upon us blessed,
a light to cause the shadows flee,
her face so close the intimate
thus bid me expect;
and visit yes, indeed it did,
though not from her lips;
rather twas her loving eyes reached mine
whereupon they kissed.
I felt the pursing,
lived the brushing moment
gifted in your docile gaze;
no gates, no guards, no walls,
orbs of colors breathing for us alone,
born in hues our two hearts conceived;
parents we to own the softest faith,
our gifted harmony in shades pure,
with nary speck of rust to mar unblemished trust.
Stay still! Catch my every fiber;
you already have, but do it again.
Brush me in unparalleled joy,
wrap me in your peace so deep
words scratch and flail a billion strong;
dabble your colors brushing on and in,
so sweet, this silence of love
renders all and any voice and still,
the softest in all the world outside
would fall upon my ears a rasp,
an intrusion crude and shrill.
Oh, that moment, I could hold forever;
those colors, I could swim within an endless summer.
Humbled, honored, stunned in shades so very rare.
Oh joy! Do you see it?
Mighty hues strong Samson would pale upon,
your strength of pure submission,
freely gifted eyes to eyes,
that lovely silent song.
If life holds but an ounce of fair,
my last moment
pray it be a free fall dive
from the safest of cliffs
your eyes have led me to;
where your colors birth,
born beyond earth and sky;
would that this moment freeze
so I may lose myself in your twin kisses,
that this moment forever be;
quicker than thought
I relinquish all I am
if eternity but bend the knee.
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