To Mary Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

TO MARY


The willows sway, slowly,
Over the sea,
With a rapturous ecstasy.

You vanquish me with one
Glance of your mellifluous cadence,
Which pours forth like honey in the sun,
From the silky radiance
Of your eyes and a raven tress,
Which graces your fair neck as a sable lace.

You saunter in an alabaster dress,
In the vestibule of a sacred place,
In the joyous marble square,
Where glorious fountains
Rise in the aromatic air,
Surrounded by a wreath of emerald mountains.

You have conquered me, my beauteous Queen.
And I am never to be the same.
Your bosom is a dew-clad meadow,
Safe and soft, and most serene;
And I go as one lost in a troubadour's dream,
Mystified by your reverent name,
Beside a descending, turquoise stream.

The redolent perfumes of your pearl-white hands
Are sweeter than all Elysian lands,
And your loving bands
Are more exalted to serve in eternity
Than it would ever be
To rule over kingdoms, regimes, the plains, the sea.

And so I go with hymns of thee
Rejoicing deep within my heart, ferrying to your home,
With boundless bliss and felicity,
Nevermore to roam
Like a wanton, mad sailor on the wild brine.

Your kiss is of an immaculate, thrilling, sanctified wine,
And your look is of a statue's gaze:
Solemnly bewitching, of a regal woman's wondrous ways,
Who walks as a goddess, beneath the lindens and the birch,
In the splendor of the cloister, in the court by the Cathedral,
In the fragrant umbrage of your magnificent church,
Where your citadel
Is one of a lover's tender reign.

And I forever go,
Wherever your Siren-like breezes flow,
Lost in the ocean of your dusky, royal mane,
And the paradisal reflection of your pristine face
Which commands every pond and lake,
Possessing such a pious grace,
To be touched by your beauty, for your own majestic sake.

And the willows sway, slowly,
Over the sea,
With a rapturous ecstasy.


~ John Lars Zwerenz

Composed the 15th of June, In The Year Of Our Lord
2014 A.D.