Alabaster hued pasture land disclosed at sun-up , persistent frost clinging for life against the first golden rays throwing myriad , glowing reflections into evergreen woodlands , inciting boyish imaginations of extraterrestrial orbs flying about , invading the unwary Earth .
The glimmering fields of my rural Georgia childhood clearly visible throughout the vast Solar System , causing quite a stir on Mars and Venus , alerting the aliens on Neptune and Uranus ..
A lookout on the Morning Star warning his comrades of life below , a martian on a silver rocket circling the cheddar cheese Moon , beaming at Kelleytown with trusty telescope , calling his King Jupiter with a secret signal or two .. Homespun daydreams of faraway places , days of sugar cane , sorghum syrup and strawberry patches .. Childhood ambitions mixed with farmland work necessities , feeding chickens , cleaning pens , eating cherry plums , riding dirt bikes and being kids ...

Secretly sprinkle my dust over Newt Gingrich's high fiber breakfast cereal . Or placed in the air plenum of a ritzy hotel whereby the elite should get a minuscule whiff of hardscrabble living , thrown on the interstate so as not to feel out of place , run over repeatedly by people  that were forever needy ..By all means please pour me liberally over the Baked Alaska at any tax payer funded high price , 'hob *******' government extravaganza ! Usher my remains across a green farm pond  to be eaten by catfish and passed to the bottom , carousing with the snails and the worms forever seeking cover . Perfectly content , hiding in the mud hoping not to be discovered ..

In the middle of the day , my thoughts of better days.
Yet realizing the truth , days of hardships can be a blessing.
That it is during those hardship days that I cling to you the most.
That during these hardships, is when I see your protection.
So yes it is better at times to have those hardships reveal you.
The Savior, Protector , and God leading me to true Salvation.
For you are my true Source to a Greater Life spent here God.
I am so thankful for you as well, as the people you place in my life.
For you all have Blessed me beyond measure, I am so Blessed.

ι.

Her vιѕage ѕнone ιn тнe ѕтarѕaleт ѕalυтaтιon.
Her reѕιdυe, oғ ѕυnѕтreaĸed groove; O' нow
Holy waѕ тнιѕ ιnvιтaтιon.

ιι.

Oυrn ѕтory waѕ long тιмe overdυe.
Waιтιng, paιnιng ғor one-anoтнer;
A ĸιng, a qυeen, a poeт;
Hιѕ мυѕe.

ιιι.

Aѕ тнe color'ѕ oғ yellow, green and вlυe,
We ғυѕed, ιgnιтed, вιrd'ѕ eхcιтed;
Taĸιng oғғ ιn wιngѕpan oғ
Kroѕнonтυѕ velaвeeм.

iv.

Loѕт lover'ѕ, ғoυnd agaιn, wιтнιn
A dreaм oғ aιѕleѕ we ѕwaм; ѕqυalιne
Beaм-ѕнιne, paѕѕιon ғroм тнe dιѕтanт
Age, eхιѕтence oғ Cнrιѕт'ѕ cнoѕen. Once
Enтoмвed, now awoĸen. Bonιeѕ claѕped,
Spιrιтιnιυм υnвroĸen.

v.

Marвle'ѕ opened, тo тнe grand, тнe new.
Dιvιne вooĸ вeғore υѕ; ιn тнιrd-нeaven
Trυтн. None мore тнιng'ѕ тo нoldeтн υѕ
Bacĸ, none мore нencнмen, nor тнe nooѕe.
Necĸ'ѕ ғree, lιғe'ѕ ĸey, тo paradιѕal ғιrмaмenт,
Allelυιa we ѕιng.




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

The best vintage
red wine,
her lips
drinking in mine.

a bottle of wine and some cigarettes
I'm calling off all my bets
I pray for hope, ain't found it yet
I guess this is all I get

a pair of boots and a dusty trail
I walk alone and tell my tale
I do my best, but I don't prevail
I guess it's all a fairytale

some cigarettes and a bottle of wine
I will get along just fine
to try to defy what's in my mind
I guess sometimes I might be blind

a little smoke and a little drink
I'm no longer on the brink
a dying mind, it starts to stink
I guess I just need time to think

a bottle of wine and some cigarettes
I'm holding off on all my debts
I guess I'll live with my regrets
a guess is all a guess begets