Saturday, June 23, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
The Duchess
The glistening furrow is all alive.
It is summer in the country,
And nature's teeming, glorious bounty
Is dressed with a dappled oak, and its golden, honeyed hive.
Mountains in the distance glow,
Where here and there a brook does flow,
Beneath the white-crested heights where the shimmering snow
Reflects the sunlight's rays to the gardens below.
I walk among the rosebush and the multicolored cloves,
In love with a duchess who resides in a tower;
Her mind is of the moonlight; she sighs above the bower,
Where the courtyard and the fountains bless her where she roves.
Her tresses are dark and long, and her countenance is profound,
Graced with a timeless beauty of a soft and poignant air
Which is wistful, tender, noble and fair.
And my heart is sent to rapture, engulfed by its mystic sound.
6-19-2012
John Zwerenz
It is summer in the country,
And nature's teeming, glorious bounty
Is dressed with a dappled oak, and its golden, honeyed hive.
Mountains in the distance glow,
Where here and there a brook does flow,
Beneath the white-crested heights where the shimmering snow
Reflects the sunlight's rays to the gardens below.
I walk among the rosebush and the multicolored cloves,
In love with a duchess who resides in a tower;
Her mind is of the moonlight; she sighs above the bower,
Where the courtyard and the fountains bless her where she roves.
Her tresses are dark and long, and her countenance is profound,
Graced with a timeless beauty of a soft and poignant air
Which is wistful, tender, noble and fair.
And my heart is sent to rapture, engulfed by its mystic sound.
6-19-2012
John Zwerenz
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