Her eyes were both the sunlit foliage and the shade of their own shadows. Night and day, they were the same, as if for her the very stars gathered near, such was her mirthful gravity. Light could abandon her no more than a flame can deny its heat. As time kept its metronome march, her laughter lines did spread. The once blank notebook of childhood became the sweetest vignette. Age had written its lines from crease to furthest edge. When youth is succeeded by wisdom, it is a thing to cheer. And so, though skin did fold around her eyes through her maturing years, she held a beauty, a soulful ever-spring.
Those light green eyes were my green light, for I realised in that moment that I loved her.
From bonny baby to esteemed elder, those light green eyes shone in all natural ways.
Why be envious of light green eyes when one can choose let their beauty into your own soul?
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