Poems to Louise H.
by Bill Bowler
Sonnet, on Miss H.’s Eyes
Why must the poet gaze into her eyes?
What is it that to him her eyes must say,
that by the lips is left unsaid
and told instead in shades of steel blue-gray,
and in her left eye, by a fleck of red?
What in his dream world can it symbolize?
Does it reflect one early crimson ray
against the gray October morning sky
at daybreak, as the sun begins to rise
and pale dawn promises to yield to day?
What fantasies, what sweet poetic lies
are left for him to swear by when his gaze
moves from her eyes to her fair golden hair
and of the past and future renders him aware?
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