His eyes were dark brown, framed by graceful brows,
A sloped downward such a lustrous grows,
And a dark, dense eyelashes might be so thick,
His brown eyes were deep and catastrophic,
They were the rocks against the shore that destroy ships,
The trees bark that protected a hundred years from every tips,
So I wonder what the word "brown"really means,
If it's a dark-bright fire lit eyes under the moonlight beams,
Surely, those brown eyes are million hues,
Which will give a marvel feelings that left no clues,
At first glance you certainly see the beauty they behold,
But once you gaze into them, see the things never untold,
The coffee color is just the beginning,
When a black and gold seem to intertwine as it's etching,
Around of his iris the colors start to mingle cascading an array,
Having a different shades a colour of a baked clay,
So show me those eyes that are cream in rich coffee,
Such a sweet orbs of a brown toffee,
His eyes are bewitching; as if their roasted-coffee- bean,
Diffused into an iris-mixing hued cream,
Till it became a colour of sun-dried beech wood,
Which is one of the greatest features of his manhood,
An eyes that can be a color of espresso,
Rich with reddish flecks I guess so,
His eyes sparkled, the light making looking them alive,
The brown colour was soft, revealing a soul so naive,
Often I've heard people call brown eyes boring,
But how can they called it unintersting?,
If it's hide a million things like a transparent lake,
And can't comprehend the audacity of colourful eyes it can make,
His brown eyes are more than like a chocolate, honey and chestnuts,
They were every shade of brown you could imagine and denial cannot ,
His eyes shown like new growth on the boughs of the trees,
Such a bright youthful and moss free,
They were hickory as the rich as the earth's soils,
The exact shade and dimension as a handful freshly turned soil,
The hue that promises to stir life from dormant seeds,
The nascent plants guided as what its needs,
They were deep, earthy-brown, the color after torrential rains,
The cool water of flames, soft rain in petals which stand remain,
I often kept my gaze to the soil or tilted upward the sky,
His eyes are the silent horizon, when the sun finally had enough in high,
They were an eyes like a shinning sunlight,
The deep brown trees at winter twilight,
Burnt out, living tiny specks of dulled light,
A color shone in the fading sunset,
But under the moon they glimmer like a black garnet,
His eyes reminded me of a seasons changing,
Such a million things of everything,
They were the autumnal leaves and the soil in summer,
A color of coconut shells and radiated a tropical beach in warmer,
Imagine that his eyes are like earth on the ground,
I mean the minerals that surround,
A deep alluring eyes captivated me as sparkles like a brown topaz,
Danced within the swirls of gold a fierce dusky brown orbs,
They pulled me in, capturing my attention,
Drowned with its sheer forced fascination,
They are copper against honey,
A brown doe-eyes flecks with gold so lovely,
His red-rimmed eyes are the colour of burnt umber,
As deep as his soul, as luminous as amber,
Every feature was perfect, the brown darkened as its near pupils,
Creating the most stunning ombre that could kills,
One look into them and you're lost for all eternity,
'Cause there no other eyes will ever compare with serenity.