A Sketch

for Jennifer
(whose eyes are baby-blue with a slight circle of yellow around the pupil)

I decided to embark on a skiff *
     to skim the surface of steely-blue eyes.
A vessel well suited for the task
     maneuverable I could look over-side.
“I can put an oar in this iris-water,
     and keep nearby the safe heart-harbor.”

But I fell to dreaming in my cradle-boat,
     so blue, so cool, so clean was the water. 
Those sweet, soft, waves of serenity,
     with easy hands, they pushed me far from land.
How many sailors sounded the sea-floor,
     falling over with wander-minds like mine!

The liquid topaz, stretching forever,
     withholds wonderful things to tell:
     life stories of past, present, and future;
     her eye will see all that I want to know.
Just to crack the steely-lens, to get below;
     but the cold-blue liquid remains aloof.

Those baby-blue crystal tides treated me well,
     but failed to take me on the course I wanted.
But steering my own, I soon veered off,
     and stumbled to a black, pupil-abyss.

First came the choppy, yellow-tipped waves,
     which frothily circled the whirlpool.
They stood between serenity and despair,
     with a rough hand; tossing me here and there.
Always churning, always seeking to feed
     that swirling pit, which falls forever.

Fearing emotional death and torment,
     I resisted the self-doubting pupil-hole.
“I won’t suffer this, not this time, not now:
     woman of the sea, now I know for sure,
     that you really don’t care for me!”

Rowing till my spine broke and lungs split,
     I back-paddled through the way which I came.
Escaping death, panting, sweating, bleeding,
     I fell face down, exhausted in my ship.
     The change came fast; it happened so quickly,
     all was over in a mere heart-second.

Face up, I awaken with salty-eyes;
     that ocean water of a common sort.
With my skiff-sheets tangled in a mess,
     the florescent-sun smiled down on me,
     amused by the whole ordeal.