I Met a Man Whose Eyes Were Like The Sea

(I saw someone else shared some poetry, so why not)

I met a man whose eyes were like the sea.

Blue, and cold, and wrought with stormy froth;

They pierced me through like oceans northerly,

Or else they swallowed me in frightful wroth —

No — these are but of memory the pangs.

In truth they were a dull and mottled blue,

As sky upon a dreary day that hangs

Above a down, all fog-encrusted through.

Nay still — they were not quite so drab as that.

Does conscience make of memory the thrall?

Did he (I must now ask), that man who sat

Upon that chair, have eyes of blue… at all?

wow I love it!

Thanks! I'm glad you like it

Thanks for sharing

Do any of you have favorite poems/poets?

I am not that as much into poetry. But I can definitely appreciate it.

I understand that: it's a very specific, kind of weirdly niche thing.