My Lover Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

MY LOVER

How lovely her majesty seems to me,
When she wanders through her regal garden
In a state of pristine, gentle grace.
There angels praise the symphony of her face,
As she kneels in prayer near the undulating sea,
Where ivy and vines meet the trellis on the glen.

How delicate are her braided bows,
Where a stream from paradise gently flows,
Crowning her a queen, as she roves in the square;
For from sanctity she will never part,
With ardor in her sacred heart,
And cherry blossoms in her hair.

JOHN LARS ZWERENZ