MARY

Her majesty emits a soft perfume
Which makes the poet weak.
Her feminine powers command his will,
And they make him humble- meek.
Her beauty is one with the blooms on the hill.
And when her petals unclose
Like a starlit rose
She captures him with a charming ease
As he surrenders to her gleaming might which flows
In the tranquil, scented breeze.
She shall be adorned with many costly jewels
And with diamond rings around her fingers
And with many precious pearls around her neck
For her immaculate perfume which sweetly lingers.
- John Lars Zwerenz