by John Lars Zwerenz
In The Hush Of The Morning
Now that we have attained our eternal reward,
Let us walk beneath the willow trees,
In the pregnant rapture,
In the hush of the morning.
For upon the earth it was you I adored.
Let the somnolent breeze
The majestic dawning
Which glows in your glances.
The swirling wreath of leaves in the autumn gale dances,
Around the statues of the court, in the boundless sun.
I chose you in Paris as my sacred, only beloved one,
Upon the old earth, well behind us in time.
Alas! We know now only infinity and wine!
Let us loose ourselves in a flurry of exquisite rhyme,
And enter the enclosure clad with columns strewn with vine.
Immersed in the soporific jewels of the charming melody
Which descends from the golden balcony,
We shall love in our bastion by the tranquil sea.
And I shall take your face into my hands,
And kiss your lips intensely so.
I shall undo your every braided bow,
On the radiant beach, on the gleaming, starry sands.
And I shall kiss your parted lips still more fervently until
Your eyes betray their dusky, ecstatic daffodil,
And your feminine passion is betrayed with a sigh,
With a blissful moan of sacred, chaste pleasure,
Beyond the realm of all earthly measure.
We shall incur the envy of the angelic court,
As they gaze upon our love - confounded.
And our love of a fevered, potent sort
Shall leave them all in awe - astounded!
John Lars Zwerenz
Last updated January 02, 2016