My Granddaughter's Eyes
I saw her eyes changing
as she moved about the room.
Green, brown, with golden flecks,
shafts of light from the window
gave back a touch of blue.
How many interesting thoughts
behind those trout-stream eyes -
soft brown as she drifted into shade.
I thought of the gentle brook
Bubbling through the glade.
A bright flash as she looks up
with such intelligence.
I would like to know her future.
What success will she achieve?
And what happiness?
Long dark lashes sweep down.
Her feelings now are hidden.
Many hearts will be broken,
many loves forsaken.
© Elizabeth Mary Solomons 2002