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WRITINGS
Tina [download]
You might say her eyes were bewitching,
But that would be frightfully wrong.
For a witch is a black-hearted demon,
To that ilk, those eyes can't belong.
You might say her eyes were enslaving,
Imprisoning men at a glance.
But no violence is needed to take us,
We'd surrender ourselves at the chance.
You might say her eyes were hot-smoldering
Caldrons of passion and fire.
Their exotic, sweet boiling contents
The only sustenance a man could desire.
You might say her eyes were perfection.
The most beautiful feature of a beautiful face.
What a gift it is to behold them,
My heart's indelibly etched with their grace.
Copyright © 2007 Mark Doherty. All rights reserved.