The Vagabond Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

THE VAGABOND

Wandering through the countryside, 

All things to my eyes became sanctified.

My old sailor's coat became sacred too!

I dipped my hand into a stream of china blue,
And walked into a wood where the chosen reside.


I drank mystic ales from that good grove.

In the sun, as a vagabond, I did rove
To the outskirts of a gleaming plain, 

In the redolent rapture of the falling rain,
Where the summer breeze removed all pain.


And at the foot of a castle, where moss clad stone
Gleamed among blooms kissed from above,
I ceased to feel the coldness of being alone,
For there below a terrace of sunlit vines
I had found the essence of eternal love.

For a lady demure with an angel's face
Of purity, light and timeless grace
Possessed a gaze of golden wines,
And the world became a sacred place.
And every blossom sang from the branches and the bines.

John Lars Zwerenz