i.

Mine admiration for her
Daily doth beam;
Hour's passeth by, with meteor shower's aloft the Sky's
I'll awaiteth a million year's for mine queen.

ii.

In mine sleep, betwixt mine dream's
No ado shalt get in between, none evil, nor fiend's;
Laughter and light, in struck night's, angel polite
Amour in flight, wherein all is right, crystal gleamed.

iii.

I'll dye the scene, a daffodil coloration
I'll be here mine sweet, I'm not leaving, I'm patient;
On other planet's, or nation's, wherever I shalt be
I promise mine lass, mine half, I'll be waiting for thee.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)

Have you ever seen someone
Fall in slow motion?

A seemingly gentle descent
Till they hit the ground?

That's not possible
You reply

What about that boy in your math class,
Who committed suicide last year?

What about that little girl
Whose father beat the life out of her?

What about the teenager
Who took their own life?

What about all the people
Who hurt themselves each year?

What about the man
Who blew himself up last month?

What about that woman
Who hung herself from all the stress?

What about that mother
Who drowned herself for losing her baby girl?

What about me?
Have you seen me?

I'm falling
Falling slowly, but surely
And the ground is getting dangerously close

Trust me,
**It's possible

stars weeping their golds,
the tide whispering
in shadowy pools,
accepting our love.

A painter's wooden palette
is used to blend color,
if it isn’t quite right 
no problem,
just wash it and start over.

A clean slate with  
no layers beneath,
no previous unused batches
or miss- matches.

A fresh start without guilt
and the constant reminder
of mistaken color.

If my brain were this simple
I'd be soggy from starts over.

Instead,

my palette is thick and
crusty with mistaken color
and every new mix
blends the old with the new.

These multi-layer batches
will never dry out or wash off
so I’ve stopped trying.

I'm tired of all this
mixing and matching
where no matter how bright
the color I add,

it always ends up storm gray..

I'm a cast away
From my own
I'm a second away
From all I know
I'm a smiling *****
At least to you
You are a sweet forget
From all I knew.
You are the shrew
Little boy.
I'm not your ****
Or little toy.
You, you I try
To avoid.
Scenic routes
Are better inside.
Inside myself where
I take my own steps.
Being alone I've
Figured is the
Best,

Cinnamon and black grey
breaks the summer's doze
the voice gives away
it's sitting somewhere close.

The shade of a mango tree
that rests the wings from sun
breaks the day busy
to a lonely space for one.

In its eyes black bead dark
solitude wears a skin
a sadness makes its mark
of a silent cry within.

It dips beak deep for preens
cleanse that's daily a chore
another day quick spins
shadows are longer more.

N.F.L.
Killing children
Since 1912

... that's HUGE.

my little dog got a dew claw
hooked in her bottom eyelid.
don't ask me how.
i had a heck of a time
keeping her still...
she was struggling.
when the claw was finally
extracted (i spent 5 minuets
praying. calming her) i found that
i had not pulled it up and
out (unhooking it so to speak)

IT HAD BROKEN OFF
SAVING HER EYE.

i pray for protection for this
beautiful little creature.

GOD HEARD ME. and answered.

♥ Catherine