Your eyes tell a story, if only I could read,
Of summer fun and winter nights, of love and miseries.
Your eyes grow a garden, if only I could go,
With winding paths and waterfalls, with rose and white daisies.
Your eyes have a map, if only I had a compass,
Through treasure troves and ancient ruins, through rivers and great seas.
Your eyes paint a picture, if only I could see,
The swirls of paint and brush strokes, the colors and techniques.
Your eyes consume my heart, you only have to try,
To read to me and carry me, to guide and show me please.
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