Under his rich,
Deep-filled brown lashes and lids,
His eyes grasped my eyesight.
I faded into his iris;
into a scene;
into a world…
the evening was peaceful,
everything;
sodden in his innate colour;
it was a cosy, woolly atmosphere.
As I walked barefoot upon the warm sand,
the caramel sunset tucked itself in,
and chocolate birds dashed home to slumber.
The wind blew gently past my face,
carrying an aromatic scent of coffee,
cappuccino crickets whistled out their songs,
and the milky moon shone…
I discovered a wooden door;
I reached out for the handle,
turned…
they blinked,
and turned to their work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow! very nice thought you have there