AFTER OUR DEATHS
The sangria of your eyes
Rushes to the snow clad pines,
Dispersing fragrant, cherry wines
Beneath the lavender tinted skies.
The clemency of your ivory hands
Releases many sacred things:
Diadems of wedding rings
Form circles around our amorous bands.
And your hair of an angel's, conceived in black,
By God's majestic Triune brush
Glitters like a fount when the starlight's hush
Illuminates your smooth, alabaster back.
Billows pass above as our coach arrives.
We shall ferry beyond our cabin to the slopes,
No longer needing faith nor hopes.
See now how all was a blessing to our lives!
John Lars Zwerenz
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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