I’ve never much cared
about the color of eyes.
Of all of their traits
it seems the most…dull.

And that isn’t to say
that I won’t hold your gaze.
But when I look at my love
I don’t see green, hazel.

I see life and time,
and memories made,
the spark of your wit
and our shared knowing glances.

But more than all those
I find happiness there
in your some-colored eyes
of what some, I don’t care.