When I Look at You

Eyes, your eyes, something in the way That ties me to you like a fine day. It's love that I discover When I look at you. The kind of love on a postcard cover, So magically dreamy and true. The kind of love that is felt While roaming the streets of Paris with hands held, Grasping, this is love. Poetry of your heart heals My aching bruises and feels Light as a feather, Tying you to my tether. Your serene smiles justify Every whirlwind of emotions, Even the swirling skies get shy Espying your eyes' deep oceans. The moment I catch a glimpse of you, The world around me perceives anew. Every pain, every sorrow disappears; Gloomy autumnal vanishes, and suddenly spring appears. What silly sorcery is this, Making a cynic like me feel something amiss? Now, I want to be together, Want to confess like a 1930s love letter. The kind of love that is so innocent and pure, That makes you feel so right and sure Of every cry together, Of every day better, Of every shared laughter, Of happy ever after. So this is what happens When I look at you, So many electric emotions, Ivy of dreams that privily grew. So tell me that you feel it too, Make my fears bid adieu.