The Eye Is Such a Braggart
The eye is such a braggart with its emerald this and hazel that.
Does no one dream about an ear or a nose?
(personally ... I find the shin and pinkie toe quite fascinating)
But it is a place the Poet seldom goes,
still hot on cornea fever ... stanza after stanza after
stanza.
It's like I'm part of a Dickens' novel: A Tale of Two Spheres (oh dear)
Velvet pupils coming at you ... (attention spans beware ... we're discussing EYES)
... but what about the palms and the cowlick?
(do you have the gumption to make it poetic?)
Or is it back to the drawing board - sleepless nights
excavating further facets of the dead-lights.
I know its "infinite depths" make you sigh with Shakespearean fervor,
but really, enough is enough,
when there's so much more of me to love.
Have you so quickly forgotten the beauty of a rose?
(plug your nose and see how it goes)
I want so bad to see that lovely weirdness
chilling out beneath your temples.
I pray it's not too much to ask for a little ink spilled
to the one who showed you piano,
the sound of rain, your mother's voice.
(that curious curvature holding up your glasses
deserves a rhyme or two
... not another verse
about my baby blues!)
Just once I wanna hear someone say,
Your nose makes my heart run ...
Your chewed off fingernail brings to mind the crescent moon ... !
For your next Magnum Opus could you spare some room
for the underdog anatomy.
Did you know I have a crooked ear that's more endearing
than a heart carved into a tree?
Didn't think so! (iris hog)
Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016
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