Blue Eyes
Her eyes in mine are blue as salted sea.
With depth and shine that shame an angel’s own.
Two oceans making her endeared to me,
tho’t seems to me this wings of falsèd tone.
As well her face is fair as pale morn,
a smile bright as early risen sun.
Between my sight and reason I am torn:
I wish to list to reason’s tight-formed bun,
but cannot do, for beauty o’erwhelms
my self and shows perfection in my love.
By sleep-drunk dream mayhaps by sight is helmed,
that makes me see such beauty, pure as dove.
So ‘haps it’s so that I have this contrived
and that her beauty’s just to me divine.
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