There are times I need the spread of a meadow, green and flat
Or maybe a field with perfect rows of corn as I drive quickly by
I want to see the distance but not so much that I cannot be a part
Because where do people exist except in common occurrence?

Hands across the void unable to touch each other
Giant clocks with hands that move though we cannot see
Hands reaching to heaven but all we can feel is the rain
The sun and moon shine upon us but time passes not so gently

Between mountaintops is there a promise for the future?
What we see and gaze upon is only a moment to contemplate
Though some live in God’s country it is not the pleasure of most
To walk upon burning sands is the promise that we will live together

It is the truth that you must see in order to know truth itself
And so we must see his presence in the things we cannot touch
Yet what we feel is the warmth of day and the chill of the night air
And the sense of self that brings us together on common ground

I feeleth a calming tranquility
Coming over mine lid's;
I left mine body completely
I'm alive whilst dead.

Whilst dead, I'm a child
Reborn from the ash;
Critic's art forgiven
And I'm smiling in bask.

No definite task's, for to do
I'm freely engulfed, by amare so true;
With the shaman, and the falcon feather to
Prowling the countryside, the hills as mine muse.

No threatening combinations
A key and no lock;
To enter the straightaway
Breaking the box.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Some just loveth by their chatter
Some loveth only by their action;
Some just showeth love from fear
Some just loveth for distraction.

Some just loveth to not hate
Others just loveth by their fate;
Some loveth only whilst in death
Others loveth from their last breathe.

Some loveth, from wanting none abuse
Others loveth before their necks art noosed;
Everyone wilt loveth us sadly when we're dead
At ourn gravesite, they'll be bowing their heads.....



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

If distance
Separates two's amour;
Then it never was amour at all.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Human romance
Interweb connection; dreamy
The words I loveth thee.

Angelic romance
Meeting one in person; realism
Taking plane or train, making it happen.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry