Dark eyes haunt my dreams
Where blue ones used to dwell.
The love that all did say was true
Is buried under dark eyes' spell.
She was my queen, my true love dear,
A thing of rare and radiant gold
But dark and earthy forces now
Draw me to seek out the lady bold.
For bold she is, this thing of flame
That pulls me towards her, scorching me.
I must go for I do burn
For a love that consumes fatally.
Dark eyes, red lips, a hunger too
Obliterates whatever she can
Oh let her scatter near and far
The ashes of a better man.
Blue eyes I seek to save my soul,
But turned away they have
And never more such solace be
The lot of a dark eyed lady's slave.
(c) 2010 Nan Hawthorne
Before there was the novel, there were the stories...
by Nan Hawthorne, who also writes under Christopher Hawthorne Moss, Books and Stories b ChristopherHawthorne Moss at http://authorchristophermoss.vlogspot.com