Smoke Gets In Your Eyes Poem by Roy Ballard

We listened in a small hotel
to ‘Smoke gets in your eyes'.
The sksylark never sang so well
by white cliffs and blue skies
and where the river meets the sea
we came together, you and me.

Beyond the river and the sea
the mighty ocean rolls
but there is an infinity
that spreads beyond the poles,
that time can never spoil nor spend:
a stream of love without an end.

The sea has moods and motions
the old seafarer knows;
as he can read the oceans
I read the ebbs and flows,
the thoughts and feelings, every trace,
that move upon your darling face.