Poetry

My two eyes

My two eyes, you’ve grown and grown
Like little seeds that have been sown
In fertile soil
You too have changed beyond compare

You see, my eyes, I’ve always known
Like that old wren whose young have flown
To distant trees
That you’ll never be mine to keep

But be you ever far or near,
Like my own eyes I’ll hold you dear
For that you are:
My eyes, and ears, and life, and breath

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