A Raconteur Girl Production

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The Gift

The Gift - Ralph Waldo Emmerson

The Gift

 

A window to the soul

Eyes are said to be

And the real truth in that

Even a blind man can see

 

It’s a joy to behold

A child’s innocent gaze

Full of hopes and dreams

A lovely rose-coloured haze

 

Eyes that are blue

Like a cool and cloudless sky

They seem to have a higher view

Always asking the world ‘why?’

 

Full of mischief

Are sea-green elfin eyes

Seeming to see through everything

Perceiving, mystical and wise

 

Friendly warm teddy bear eyes

Just begging to be trusted

Full of kindness and care

The colour of tin so rusted

 

Almost black, violet dark eyes

Like the pitch colour of midnight

They seem bottomless pits

Where there enters no light

 

Eyes can shine and gleam

They can laugh and can plead

They can cry and can scheme

Or beg forgiveness for some misdeed

 

But the real gift we are given

Is the colourful world our eyes show

Lovely, awesome and magnificent

And without our eyes we’d not know

 

So admire beautiful orange gold sunsets

Or roaring tumbling waterfalls

As well as playful funny kittens

And big red roses climbing over walls

 

But don’t forget that talented one

Who gave us the gift of our eyes

Our maker and our friend

Jehovah the creator always prize

 

 

Rach

1991

 

 

“We are thankful for goodwill rather than for

services, for the motive than the quantum

of favour received.”

– William Hazlitt

2 responses

  1. Very good.

    Like

    March 19, 2013 at 7:24 pm

  2. Thanks Jessica!

    Like

    March 19, 2013 at 9:17 pm

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