Brown they are you know,
big and shiny like Autumn conkers
fringed and dark charcoal smudges
emitting beams like fireflies,
seeing all but telling no one,
meditative powerful authority
once of lushness,
the eyes that could bewitch a maiden
now a little faded perhaps rheumy
one might say, yet could in a blink
seduce and tempt to lead astray…
the eyes that tell the story
the eyes that show their pride,
watchful ebony pigments that
twinkle indiscreetly like
magnificent coal diamonds,
templates of sadness
still, such infinite eyes of pride.
