Violets {a Sonnet} Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

Violets {A Sonnet}

The azure billows of the turquoise bay
Rise to the heights of the brilliant sun,
And support the haulers, which one by one,
Drift to the beaches, where the violets play.
And in the reeds, which are kissed by the gales,
My lady dreams of the vast, sloping sea,
Taking my mind with her soft, sweet beauty;
She sighs like a queen, and softly exhales.
Reclining amid the purple flowers,
Her hand falls into mine, as ships ascend
The waves of the brine—the palms gently bend.
A quiet claims the dunes of the bowers;
My lady's mane, more splendid than all dawns,
Sleep upon my chest, as winds toss the lawns.

JOHN LARS ZWERENZ