by John Lars Zwerenz
Let me drink the potent fire from the umbrage of your eyes,
And be drunk with the Chablis in your long, raven hair.
O, lover, let me see the diamond founts rise
From your immaculate feet, beneath eternal skies,
In the gilded breezes of the ecstatic square;
O, fairest one, let us greet the symphonies which descend
Like freshets bejeweled, like the raptures they send,
From lavender mounts which ring our estate and its regal rooms,
Caressing sunlit boughs, wreathed with scarlet blooms,
Gracing our holy ardor - which shall never know an end.
Last updated September 16, 2016