My eyes r an ocean in whch my dreams r reflected

I start my day with the alphabet of those magic eyes
I wait for them to tell me secrets.

I know their language . . .

They are the touch of the morning breeze
when it rains in paradise,
the smell of spring,
clouds in a January sky.

I stare at the tulip blooms in my life?s garden
and invite my soul into
the white house of my heart
and wait for those magic eyes.

I sit in front of a mirror and murmur
the love lyrics of Rumi, King Farsi poetry
and the poet of love.
I think we travel the same path,
The path of love and desire . . .

Those eyes:
song of hope,
croon of waterfall,
wail of canary,
sweeter than all sweets.

Those eyes tell me secrets
I have long searched for.

I accept pain for those eyes.
I accept tears for those eyes.
I love poetry for those eyes.
They are God?s book of poems.

Oh God!

Look at me!
I know you are kind, I trust, but
why,
why,
why
are those eyes
elusive?

P.S hit the SPOTLIGHT