John Lars Zwerenz

Veteran Poet - 1,087 Points (1-5-69 / Kew Gardens, New York, USA)

John Lars Zwerenz Poems

1. The Billowing Reeds 2/26/2013
2. To Rebecca 2/26/2013
3. The Lady Of The Garden 4/26/2013
4. The Courtyard 10/10/2013
5. My Love 10/10/2013
6. Paul (Ode To A Teacher) 10/17/2013
7. Le Chateau 11/16/2013
8. Rejoice! 12/11/2013
9. The Ghost Ship 12/15/2013
10. The Outer Darkness 12/18/2013
11. Passion 1/30/2014
12. The Baby Grand 1/30/2014
13. My Lover Is In Paradise 2/3/2014
14. Scarlet Gales 12/9/2013
15. The Grave Of Arthur Rimbaud 2/28/2014
16. Moonlight 3/13/2014
17. Your Gaze 3/15/2014
18. The Apollonian 3/15/2014
19. Your Face 3/15/2014
20. Dreaming By The Lake 3/15/2014
21. My Youth 3/29/2014
22. Fire 4/3/2014
23. The Grove 4/4/2014
24. The Infinite 4/5/2014
25. Sunset 3/13/2014
26. 'The Sky Is So Blue, So Pure, And So Soft..' 3/16/2014
27. Ecstatic Wine 3/16/2014
28. Wines 4/6/2014
29. The Conservatory 4/13/2014
30. June 4/26/2014
31. Eternity 4/27/2014
32. The Swashbuckler 4/28/2014
33. A Grecian Tale 4/28/2014
34. The Starlit Night 5/2/2014
35. By The Lake 5/8/2014
36. Par Le Lac 5/9/2014
37. Poetry 5/10/2014
38. The Lady Of The Bastion 5/26/2014
39. Asleep In The Garden 5/26/2014
40. The Graveyard 6/5/2014
Best Poem of John Lars Zwerenz

A Gypsy's Life

A gypsy am I, as I rove on the downy dale;
Aside from the taverns, the fields are my only vale.
I drink from my carafe a fairy-fermented brew,
And I dream of fair love, beneath a radiant sky of blue.

I carry within my satchel a book of romantic rhyme;
I wield it when I may, and write as I did of old: -
Of a sable-haired girl, whose gaze is of a raven-gold.
Her dress is white and long, and her hair is of an elysian clime.

I am struck by visions beside the lane,
On starry October nights, laved by the autumn rain,
And I sleep beneath the myrtles, musing ...

Read the full of A Gypsy's Life

A Gypsy's Life

A gypsy am I, as I rove on the downy dale;
Aside from the taverns, the fields are my only vale.
I drink from my carafe a fairy-fermented brew,
And I dream of fair love, beneath a radiant sky of blue.

I carry within my satchel a book of romantic rhyme;
I wield it when I may, and write as I did of old: -
Of a sable-haired girl, whose gaze is of a raven-gold.
Her dress is white and long, and her hair is of an elysian clime.

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