Some say that the eyes are the windows of the soul,
Hers are as clear and intense as the deepest pool.
Dare I stare at them, before long possesses me
A desire so strong from which I cannot flee
Of diving in head first, fearless of my drowning.
In that wondrous gateway I see myself sovereign
A king by her own hand that she would be crowning,
Standing proud by her side under clear skies or rain.