To me, yea, Iris is invisible,
the scent of yours all pervading,
Behold your face all-rich,
When I close my eyes.
Wordsworth's daffodils to me,
Membrane of the eyes,
that gives light to me,
Light that misleads the morn.
You are the genus iris,
with sword-shaped leaves,
Showy coloured flowers,
displaying rainbow colours
Your eyes green and deep,
Deeper than the depth,
Stilled waters at even,
those eyes, break of the day.
I see a heart full of love,
with the gentleness of a dove,
Feel in her eyes March,
September in her heart.