Poem By Charlotte Ballard
'I like blue eyes best.'
This you said to me
After a night of loving
And being undressed.
'Oh, ' I said and then thought to me.
My eyes are the color of the ocean
Way out deep.
Where the dolphins dip and dive
In play before the sun sets.
My eyes are the color of the Ozark forest
After a summer rain, where a lone bird cries.
My eyes are the color of emeralds dug
Out of the ground by black Nubian workers
Their backs cut red.
'No offense to you, of course, ' You said.
'No, of course not, ' I said, 'None taken.'