My eyes

She is tall enough to reach the sky.

We met almost beyond memory, amongst the first hopes, possible dreams, and endless days.  She was long limbed and perfect with grey-blue eyes that could search souls. Her hair was a wild storm of golden curls – a sun bleached halo about her lovely head.  Her smile banished clouds. She turned heads and captivated without guile.

Time has been kind, barely thickening her body and touching her face with honest lines that define her beauty rather than diminish it. She has taken on the mantle of age with ease, elegance and grace. She still commands a second look from hopeful strangers

We are no longer lovers yet we are much closer than that.

Her children have my eyes.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano