MY LOVE
MY LOVE
Her soul is of vanilla and
evergreen trees…
It is of lemon-scented, mellifluous
streams
That flow from fountains in the
saline breeze;
It is of cool, silver brooks
that bubble through dreams…
Her spirit is of mountains that
glisten in the cloudless, blue air;
Her heart is of a brilliant star
that rises over a marble square…
The redolent, oceanic gales blow
back her slender, straight, black hair…
Her gaze is of golden bowers,
sunny, summery, flowery and fair.
Her pace is of an angel’s, with
each foot that is laid…
She is clad in a dress of white,
And wanders through the gardens
in the moonlight…
Her mane is that of heaven, and
her tresses are in a braid…
There is a courtyard of a castle
by the turquoise sea…
She somnolently walks beneath
its archway of roses,
Among terra-cotta statues, as she
softly discloses
Fragrances of ecstasy…
And in the still of the evening,
When her lips meet mine,
All the willows weeping,
Dipped in ponds,
Glitter like wine
With alabaster, florid fronds;
And her eyes smooth, multihued
and dark
Absorb my being wholly so
In the marble court, where the
fountains flow,
In the woods and meadows, in the
corners of the park.
~ John Lars Zwerenz
No comments:
Post a Comment