AN OLD ENGLISH PUB
I walked into an ancient, English pub
As a rosy faced maid knelt down to scrub
Where sailors sat around mahogany tables
Drinking brownish ale, and telling Saxon fables;
The scent of mignonette mixed with thyme
Descended from holly and mistletoe.
As I reclined in a booth weaving my rhyme,
I dreamt of a square where a stream did flow.
And in the beer scented thick of the drunken din,
I saw a princess with flowers in her hand
Kneel beside a shrine, as sunlight graced the land.
And lo and behold, that same sun shone in
And touched all the sailors' heads and hearts
With Mary's love and Cupid's darts.
John Lars Zwerenz
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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