Of She Whom I Love Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

OF SHE WHOM I LOVE

Her hair is softly curly, wavy, black and long;
Her gazes are of wine, and of a sailor's song.
She prays to the Virgin, in the courtyard of the church,
And petitions eternal love, before a shrine below the birch.

She praises what is holy; she is faithful and secure.
Of lovely things she muses on; she is humble in her dress.
She awaits a man of virtue; she dreams of his caress,
As she walks among the statues; her thoughts are sacred- pure.

Her countenance is doubly fair;
It is of an angelic, pristine white;
She hides from the world, with a regal air.

Her heart and mind are filled with vespers of delight.
She keeps to herself; she is sparing in speech.
Her scent is of a queen, and of the blossoming peach.

John Lars Zwerenz