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Violet’s Eyes

I'm a writer, a poet, a dreamer. Born and raised in New York City. I now live in Daytona Beach, Florida. .


Violet was as lovely,

as the flowers,

that carried the same name.

She had eyes that sparkled,

with glints of violet

and made his heart beat faster.

She was the one,

that had turned his head,

the love of his life.

Violet was like a butterfly,

that stayed for awhile

and then had to fly.

For some years now,

she came to stay,

together through the spring and summer,

they would play.

Then like the last butterfly of summer,

when the autumn winds began to blow,

she would turn to go,

until spring would come dancing,

through the meadows again.

He never questioned where she went,

never asked why she had to go,

he was just content,

that for two seasons,

she was his only love.

He sometimes wondered,

as he watched autumn leaves,

dance about blown by the wind

and watched silver snowflakes fall,

why it was so,

that they couldn’t speak to one another,

making the gray and dreary days,

go so much faster.

To hear her sweet voice,

it would have been like having her with him,

but it never happened

and he never demanded it.

It was like there was a door,

through which she came and went,

a door to a private world,

that she needed.

It had always been so,

that during the autumn and winter,

Violet had to be on her own

and he was left to dream,

of her sparkling eyes.

With eagerness he waited,

as the snows of winter melted

and finally spring,

came dancing through the meadows.

This time it was different,

this time the fates were cruel.

He heard about a bomb blast,

in a town not far away.

He never thought to think,

that this could affect him.

But in the morning he saw,

her face among the victims,

his lovely butterfly,

was senselessly taken away,

by a violent event,

that he could never understand.

He knew now that he would never know,

what kept her away from him,

but he knew that one day,

he would meet her again.

Until that day,

he was content to live with his memories,

closing his eyes at night he dreamt,

of them together in spring and summer,

of her sweet kisses

and always before him he saw –

Violet’s eyes.

© 2017 Gypsy Rose Lee

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