Two poems

By G.S.

Are her eyes blue, like the Atlantic,

or grey and hard, like the Titanic?

Either way,

I am the iceberg

wanting to be touched by her love

to be noticed

for only a second.

Are her eyes green, like the trees,

or brown and strong, like the trunks?

Either way,

I am the bird

wanting to have a home with her

to be surrounded

forever.

Handsomely Beautiful

Dark

Rich like honey

or the boughs or immortal trees

that have seen so much;

too much.

How could I ever apologize

with those dark chocolate marbles

shining with tears

staring at me so solemnly;

so disappointingly?

In those boughs, I am the bird

taking advantage of my resources

and loving being wrapped 

in the protecting branches

who have seen too much

to just be my friend.