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Window To The Soul. I made some notes in my old poetry book, In the hopes that someday, someone would take a look. Real beauty comes from the eyes, the window to the soul, A smiling face saturated with love this being my goal. Hopes that stirred deep in my breast, Would always help me to give only of my best. To open my eyes that I may always see. The tranquillity in all that surrounds me, Flowers, trees, growing things of this earth, especially in spring the time of new birth. I listen to new sounds my ears opened wide, From my soul there is nothing that nature can hide. Wild snow drops, crocuses, daisies, violets sweet, Lambs, calves, foal born for nature to meet. Gentle spring rain and sunshine with rainbows my senses to delight, Glowing bright stars and a silvery moon to please my very sight. The cooing of doves, the twittering of cheeky sparrows, Help me defy the mind in its unfathomable narrows. New kittens and puppies to liven the day, Children's happy laughter while deep in play. Bringing hopes for the future in their own sweet way, I greet them eagerly play as they may. I am writing this down in my poetry book, In the hopes someday it will be you that will look. To see the real beauty that comes from the eyes the window to the soul, That you my friend might also reach your goal. © Bernard Shaw [log in to unmask] http://members.chello.at/bernard.shaw/poetry.html http://www.postpoems.com/members/bern/