by Greg Patrick

Vision of beauty behind green eyes do not yearn for the land over the sea with the
greenest green eyes for eyes that would look over seas for you yearning with a
depth deeper than the ocean. As one looks into them to see the summer sky and
sea. The brightness of the surface seems to reflect the
depth of your eyes. As great as the bright beauty seen on the surface as the
sun sets over the western sea and the night never felt darker nor you farther.
The brightness of the surface like an indication of the
depth of the eyes. Gaze reflected their admirer like a nomad’s face in an
oasis or sequestered tidepool of dream. A sigh to the last light of the setting sun of summer
a wordless interpretation of your name.
If there is a man in the moon as they say then all the starlight is in one woman’s eyes, a more radiant light than the stars
under the skies and when you sing only then it escapes the solace of darkness and of dreamscapes only the derelicts seek such
surreal highs. A sigh to the horizon after a distant sail or plane leaving away like a prayer to an
angel distant as a stars brightness darkened by the city lights after abandoned
on the shore. Eyes worthy of the person, a gaze
startlingly and impossibly green. Voluminous as the shelves it would take to do
justice in words yet understated. Their fathomless depth that of the Irish Sea, yet more so.

IMAGE: “Penelope” by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1869).


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: A dual-citizen of Ireland and the States, Greg Patrick is an Irish/Armenian traveler poet and the son of a Navy enlisted man. He is also a former Humanitarian aid worker who worked with great horses for years and loves the wilds of Connemara and Galway in the rain where he’s written many stories. Greg spent his youth in the South Pacific and Europe and currently resides in Galway, Ireland, and sometimes the U.S.