Her eyes were the green of the turbulent sea,
And her lashes the ripples that dance rhythmically
Just over the surface from wave crest to wave.
I looked–and I dived–and I came up–her slave.
Now they change to the blue of an icey-hued star
That leaves me in wonder to worship, afar;
I gasp–yes, and thrill–but what man, I maintain,
Can spend his life loving a star–all in vain?
by Ray Romine Friday, January 5, 1945
