Her eyes were very beautiful.

He loved her from afar.
He would never walk through
though the door was oft ajar.
The width from which he watched her
was enough to see her well
enough to tell me tales
of just how much his heart would swell

when glancing at the vision
of her passing in a coach.
"Why don’t you ever talk to her?"
I once ruthlessly broached.
"I do not flirt like officers,"
he answered haughtily.
He was the most imperious
best friend I’d ever see.

Still, devotion was his byword;
he loved that girl quite greatly.
He even drew up kidnap plans
to use precipitately.
As all this tale, his snatching plans
never would occur
for though it shocked me to see
my friend proved quite demure.