I Shall Call For You, My Love Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

I Shall Call for You, My Love

Free from all cares
I pace upon the grass.
In summery airs,
Where soft breezes pass.
Scented breezes, of merriment and thyme
Taste fresh like the matins' dew,
Or the tangy juice of a dark green lime.
I am one with the marigolds, the willows, and the yew.
All streams flow for the sake of our happiness.
The wind stirs the oaks and the wavering cypress.
(I love the ivory moon
When it's full at the chime of noon.)
Near in the distance, a cathedral's spire
Scrapes the gray clouds,
As I retire
In a farmhouse, clothed in a pea coat,
A woolly cloak of raven shrouds.
I think I'll walk to the misty, blue harbor
And sail my little boat
Over the lake, to the sunlit arbor,
To greet more furrows and fields at play.
And when I find you at the end of day
I shall call or you, my love, my lady fair,
And we shall wander at night
In the hazy, summer air
Purely for delight,
Through the little garden there.

John Lars Zwerenz