i.

Just in case
Just in case mine lass;
If tonight I taketh mine last breath
And mine soul through the city of gold shalt pass.

ii.

Just in case
Just in case mine Reyna;
If tomorrow I do not wakest
And mine body's a deathly patina.

iii.

Just in case
Just in case mine Jane;
I want to thanketh thee, for thine friendship, amare, and care,
And giving me happiness, beyond all mine hopes and dream's.

iv.

Just in case
Just in case mine seraphim;
I go into the deep,
Thus mine mother shalt leaveth thee mine keep's, mine native American necklace, poem's; a lock of mine blonde hair.

v.

Just in case I sleepeth
And passeth on eternally;
I shalt be waiting, I made thee a promise
To meetest thou mine queen.
So If mine eyeball's faileth
And mine spirit chooseth to soar,
Surely mine Earl Jane Nagley
I'll meeteth thee at heaven's door.



©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
©Lonesome poet's poetry

.

You will find me by your side when friends become emotionally expensive and stray ..
Forever recall my eyes cast in your direction from the moment you awake till the close of day ..
You will receive the warmth of the hearth on a cool Winters morn ..
The courtesy befitting a Queen , the respect duly accorded the Gods ..
Everlasting encouragement for all your hopes and dreams , a palette for your endearing artistic soul , the promise of infinite care and love , safe harbor from capricious storm .
A determined , audacious lantern to benefit the midnight hour ...
An island surrounded by churning waters , cradled by endearing receptive arms ..

I've been so curious as to what I am.
What I am to other people.
What I mean to other people.
And I have found out what it is.
I am nothing.
I am the unwanted friend and son.
I am the mistake made at a party.
I am the regret you feel when you realized you could've done better.
I am the thing people don't want.

Why am I this way.
Why am I thrown away after I give everybody my all.
Why am I getting hurt.
For doing my best.

I'm sorry.
If I went away you wouldn't notice.
You wouldn't feel or see the difference.
But as soon as I say this.
I exist again.
I "matter".
It's just because you don't want to have to deal with death.
Deal with putting up the front of sadness.
I know I wouldn't be missed.
But that doesn't matter.
Because I don't matter.

by your voice
I dream of your green eyed wisdom
floating metaphorically  
upon clouds and wind
your songs must be
there in blood spilled ink
I get high recalling
thy blushing cheeks
full lips quoting Whitman to me
softer on a hill than Autumn's calm
I fly high when
wings and turtle doves
by your voice breathe alive:


wildlife into life
you create
imagination so surreal,
your essence calms the storms,
growling rains,
beats back thunders and winds
in quickening heartbeats:
with green eyes
glance I remember there
on a page to
be treasured by I,
you and your dancing
so beautiful,
In trance I grasp

love. dance to your
songs