She Walks Beyond
She walks beyond the vine-clad stone,
In the English shade, to a garden of sun.
Her spirit and her flesh are one;
She walks in peace, to the glade, alone.
There are ebonies which call her
To epiphanies of yellow light.
And when the scented breeze
Through the linden trees stir
She reveals herself as royalty
In the diamond glow of heaven's sight.
And then,
Next to a bench of marble in the garden,
Where statues stand, clad with eglantines,
A fountain rises to the cloudless sky
Rejoicing in her beauty,
With a silver sigh
As her dark eyes gaze upon the sunny vines.
And all the earth is a symphony
As every star sobs with majesty,
Fair and solemn, sacred and of glory;
She walks upon the promenade,
Pondering rapture, and ecstasy
In the melodious bower of the sanctified glade.
Her thoughts are of felicity,
As the lavender sunset touches every rose,
With a summery grace,
Bestowing gold upon her face,
Where she walks in the little garden-close.
John Lars Zwerenz
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I am so happy to find a poet like me who loves lovely ladies admies them and moves on none of them to us belong For the female eye is always hungrier very well said I have toured USA vast and other world cities fast and i also have come to the same conclusion men love lower lips women mostly upper come my dear poet let's have supper AH LOL OR RFLOL American style John