YOUR WAKE
You walk as an angel in the soft, summer air,
Wearing a pearl-white braid,
Which clasps a lovely, raven tress,
In your long and wavy, ebony hair.
And with each gentle step that is laid
Upon the grassy path, with your naked feet,
Below your alabaster dress,
My joy is profound, ecstatic and complete,
For a delicious scent is found in your wake –
Left only for my soul to take.
John Lars Zwerenz
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