One Night In December Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

ONE NIGHT IN DECEMBER

One night in December I proposed
To my fair, dear love who held my hand
In a silent glade, by the sea and sand
Although her soul was of one that was closed.

"Be gone! " was my maiden's hushed reply
As a red moon rose above the dale;
Her mood was livid and her countenance was pale,
Such as people look who are about to die.

Her bosoms did burn beneath her dress,
As a thirsty vampire in the making.
But they never gave off a pleasant scent
When my soul was in distress
And my heart was aching.

And so she walked into the chill of the dark,
Where the wintry reeds were tall and the grasses were bent,
Into the breeze where a haunting tremolo
Sailed through the aspen tress where a lark
Witnessed her death,
Her final breath
Taken in the horrid snow.

JOHN LARS ZWERENZ