In tribute to all cats' eyes. I think cats eyes are so beautiful.
Always staring, always boring into the head.
Watching food shoveled into the mouth.
Watching the pen scratching across paper.
Watching the needle stitching cloth.
The eyes always witnessing life passing
outside the window.
The eyes becoming slits in the bright sunshine.
They can be yellow, blue, green, grey or orange.
They are an enigma we attempt to sink into.
A mystery we stare into, trying to touch a strange
mind.
A mind very different from our own.
A mind independent sometimes from our lives.
The eyes, can we ever unravel their complexity?
Can we ever understand their wild nature?
Poetry by Amy Buchanan
Read 696 times
Written on 2006-11-02 at 04:05
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The Eyes
Always staring, always boring into the head.
Watching food shoveled into the mouth.
Watching the pen scratching across paper.
Watching the needle stitching cloth.
The eyes always witnessing life passing
outside the window.
The eyes becoming slits in the bright sunshine.
They can be yellow, blue, green, grey or orange.
They are an enigma we attempt to sink into.
A mystery we stare into, trying to touch a strange
mind.
A mind very different from our own.
A mind independent sometimes from our lives.
The eyes, can we ever unravel their complexity?
Can we ever understand their wild nature?
Poetry by Amy Buchanan
Read 696 times
Written on 2006-11-02 at 04:05
Tags Eyes
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
