She’s a mystery without clues-
A riddle that has no answers,
And a puzzle with pieces missing-
Making it impossible to put it all together.
She’s a fairytale with no ending-
A dream that I can’t remember,
And a song with no words-
Making it impossible to sing along.
She’s a game I can’t win-
A prize that can’t be won,
And a treasure that eludes me-
Making it impossible to hold in my hands.
She’s everything that drives me crazy-
Bends my mind and breaks my heart - now and then,
But it’s the impossibility of her love that keeps me-
Trying to unravel the mysteries behind her blue eyes.
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I am told that all children when they are born have blue eyes. I don't know except that my entire family has blue eyes except my mother because of our Germanic origin.
So I would suggest that you have a daughter and I'm sure when she is born you will love her as much as you do this mystery in your poem. Maybe that's what your dream is after all. The hope for a healthy, beautiful girl child.
Ron