His Blue Eyes

 


His blue eyes carry oceans deep,

Not ones that roar, but those that keep,

Old secrets safe; old wounds at bay,

A quiet tide that knows how to stay.


They’ve watched me tremble; watched me break,

Seen every risk I was afraid to take.

Yet never once did they turn cold,

They warmed the parts I used to hold.


Those eyes don’t rush; don’t need to prove,

They give me space; they let me move.

They meet my fear without contempt,

Softening my sharp parts, still unkempt.


In blue reflections, I am seen,

Not who I was, or what I’ve been.

The woman rising, scars and all,

The one who learned how not to fall.


They’ve known my silence; known my shame,

My guarded heart; my whispered pain.

And still they look with gentle grace,

Like love was never meant to chase.


His gaze is home; a resting place,

A slow exhale; a steady pace.

Where chaos fades and walls release,

And safety finally feels like peace.


No fairy tales; no borrowed light,

Just solid blue, both day and night.

Eyes that stay when things get real,

Eyes that don’t force me to heal.


And when the world feels sharp and cruel,

When old fears try to overrule.

I look to blue that holds me still,

A love that waits at chosen will.


His blue eyes don’t just look at me,

They let me breathe; they let me be.

A silent vow, both deep and true,

I found my calm inside that blue.


©️ Wonderland Wanderess 2026

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