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John Lars Zwerenz

(1-5-69 / Kew Gardens, New York, USA)

My Love


MY LOVE

Her soul is of vanilla and evergreen trees…
It is of lemon-scented, mellifluous streams
That flow from fountains in the saline breeze;
It is of cool, silver brooks that bubble through dreams…
Her spirit is of mountains that glisten in the cloudless, blue air;
Her heart is of a brilliant star that rises over a marble square…
The redolent, oceanic gales blow back her slender, straight, black hair…
Her gaze is of golden bowers, sunny, summery, flowery and fair.

Her pace is of an angel’s, with each foot that is laid…
She is clad in a dress of white,
And wanders through the gardens in the moonlight…
Her mane is that of heaven, and her tresses are in a braid…

There is a courtyard of a castle by the turquoise sea…
She somnolently walks beneath its archway of roses,
Among terra-cotta statues, as she softly discloses
Fragrances of ecstasy…

And in the still of the evening,
When her lips meet mine,
All the willows weeping,
Dipped in ponds,
Glitter like wine
With alabaster, florid fronds;
And her eyes smooth, multihued and dark
Absorb my being wholly so
In the marble court, where the fountains flow,
In the woods and meadows, in the corners of the park.

~ John Lars Zwerenz

Submitted: Thursday, October 10, 2013
Edited: Friday, October 11, 2013
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