Poetry: His Eyes Are Blue

[jhameia]

Title: His Eyes Are Blue
Genre: poetry
Theme: mythical comparisons, potential, first impressions
Comments: No, seriously, that his eyes are blue tend to be one of the last things on my mind when I think of him. I think that's a good thing, if a little silly.



His eyes are blue;
This I saw second
when his lashes fluttered open
at the break of day.

His eyes are not the eyes
of loveless Narcissus,
reflecting the pool's beauty,
wrapped up in the lies
made of himself.
They are not of Adonis'
adored face, nor his
drugless anemone.
Hyacinth could not compare,
his petals speak nothing
and hold only
the misery of the sun,
the anger of the wind:
No more. No less.

His eyes are more than that;
they hold gems that lie
like treasures beneath still waters:
precious and yet to be remembered.
They hold a clouded clarity
polished and refined always;
a field of youth
for wisdom to unfold,
and so many secrets yet to be told.

So he blinked, now awake
and this I saw second:
his eyes are blue.

Comments

[oygevalte.livejournal.com]

Young love is so addictively passionate.

Wish I wasn't so jaded in my increasing years...

[fantasyecho.livejournal.com]

Young love, in my experience, is nothing but glorified lust and takes away from life. Love that restores faith is worth more. I had one and have yet to have the other.

[oygevalte.livejournal.com]

You spoke of passion; as years progress, passion lessens, and so does the overall intensity, although what is left may be stronger. And passion is what fires the heart to have faith once again. Not the garden variety common form of passion; the sort that fills one's mind and heart, not one's body.

There is nothing wrong with lust, but as you noted, in the absence of anything else, it quickly rings hollow and falls by the wayside.

Your hunger for life and love and passion, your brilliance and your determination, have reminded me of many days gone by, and make me wish my youth had not been wasted on the young. ;)