The most beautiful eyes

December 31st, 1998 admin Posted in Poetry |

I saw her standing on the old overbridge,
The one that goes over the river of Ridge,
She stood there watching the sun go down,
I stood there watching her in that lovely town,
As the sun was to disappear and to go underground,
My heart leapt up as she was turning around,
Her hazel eyes were a sight to behold,
Her face was a picture worth framing in gold.
Her constant gaze made me look down and smile,
The larks returned to the rooster after a while.
I looked up at them and then at her again,
She was walking alomg the rails, in her hand a cane.
As she was tapping in the fading light,
Her cane looked pink, I knew it was white.
She vanished into the darkness and that left me,
And my memories of the most beautiful eyes
…that couldn’t see.

( This was written more as a song rather than a poem…
Anil Krishna, 1998)