Had a serious crush on a girl with baby blue eyes. I hoped she felt the same way, but deep down I knew she didn’t.  

Half open? Nay, half at sleep. 
Dreamy, either way 
Are those peaceful opals, 
Set upon her sapphire face. 
 
Ready for light? Ready for night? 
Surely, I cannot tell, 
‘Tis a curious quandary that plagues me, 
And a feverish thirst I must quell. 
 
For every time I arch or crane, 
For a fraction of the blue, 
I am faced with this riddle: 
Do you see me as I see you? 
 
Excited, frenzied are mine eyes, 
I see you whole and bright. 
Half hidden, heavy-lidded are yours, 
Yet entirely magnetic, in spite. 
 
Oh, how I long to lift those blinds, 
That, drawn, hide the panes 
(The windows to her soul) 
Which give reason to my days. 
 
Am I cast in a favorable light? 
Have you a passion hue for this gent? 
Or am I merely like the others, 
Splashed with an aqua-turquoise tint. 
 
I confess, I confess, 
‘Tis the riddle itself I love: 
From my skittish feet of clay, 
To her willowy lamps above. 
 
‘Deed, I fear I know the answer, 
The truth doth her words belie. 
Behold! To her I am no puzzle, 
She sees me with half an eye.