The Forest in Her Gaze

 

A ring of dusk and morning green,

Where secrets sleep and shadows dream,

Her eyes, a grove the stars have kissed,

With golden flecks in emerald mist.

A wildwood forged in quiet flame,

Where truth and tenderness remain,

Each glance a spell, a sacred key,

Unraveling what we long to see.

The iris hums with ancient lore,

Like moss that guards a hidden door,

And those who dare to hold her stare

May find themselves entranced mid-air.

For in her gaze the veils grow thin,

The pulse of wonder dwells within,

A forest eye, both fierce and kind—

The soul of earth, and flame, and mind.