I looked into eyes at midnight Black and sparkling in the light In the smiling face of a gentle heart Open to all and granting each a part The angels savoured that high moment Yet I was troubled as we stood I think had I stood longer I would have had to cry Remembering this wretched dream Which haunts me again tonight That someone otherwise high minded Might judge such perfect eyes Brimming out with peace and hope Not by their sparkle or their light But rather by their colour and their shape
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This work is Copyright (c) Mike Fletcher 2006