The Eve of Saint Agnes, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The Eve of Saint AgnesThe Eve of Saint Agnes, John Everett Millais (1863)

The Eve of Saint Agnes

This is the evening before Saint Agnes’ feast,
The night’s dream when your true love will appear.
Should the rules be followed down to the least,
Eyes looking to heaven with body clear.
Entering her chamber her breath increased,
In her hungry heart she carried some fear.
Will it be the one she’s loved from the start,
Or some stranger with a cold empty heart.

Lemon moon shines beyond her window pane,
Falls on her face showing she’s without sleep.
Anguish in her mind creating great pain,
Soon with heavy eyes darkness she did reap.
Awakened, wondering if this be feign,
His lips on hers, knows this is love to keep.
She motioned that he should enter her bed,
Their passion displayed as the color red.

 

Published by

bobsieczkiewicz

Husband, Father, Grandfather, Lover of all beautiful things. I love to read and write poetry. My favorite hangouts are libraries and museums and yet I love being outdoors. I am a dreamer of things that could be.

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