Above golden ceilings

the clouds barely touch the ground

gravel leads up to my palace now

heavy silk and marble hands

around my neck, enviably alive

in empty graves and dusty mirrors

I pretend to see myself

cinnamon and myrrh

in the suffocating loneliness

of emeralds and brass-colored bones

Take my hand and come with me
Racing hearts and butterflies
Underneath a willow tree
Embracing love with starry eyes

Losing ourselves to the night
Overcome by passion's flow
Visions of love in moonlight
Enamored under tender glow

When I am old
and still alive
like embers in the ashes I
will burn the hands
of all who try
to tidy up too soon...

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.

Use me to reach out to those without hope.
For in truth, you are the only true Hope here.
Guide me to those without any true hope.
For people are flawed, and true hope is lost.
Because we all shall die someday here on earth.
But you whom created this universe eons ago.
Shall live forever, so only through you do we see true Hope.
Only you have the power, to give to us Salvation.
Only you can love us into becoming healed here.

Swiftly
skipped rush
no apology for
lemony bouncing heart

Where you are
I am
Where its far
Distant, I need your best friendship.
I'm heavy on your demand,
There by your side
As your bride
Who
Will do
All.

I just nodded my head
Gave him the gracias he
Wanted, went off to bed
I felt dead
Unwanted.

í.

Tաօ ժíŚԵíղςԵ ҽղժ'Ś օƒ Եհҽ աօɾӀժ
Tաօ ŚҽԹɑɾɑԵҽ ςɑʍҽɾɑ ӀҽղŚҽŚ;
Oղҽ kíղց, զմҽҽղ, ɑ ҍօվ ɑղժ ɑ ցíɾӀ
FɑӀӀíղց ɑŚӀҽҽԹ íղԵҽɾաҽҍ ςօղղҽςԵíօղ.

íí.

Tհҽ Qմҽҽղ'Ś ҽվҽ'Ś ŚհմԵ
Hҽɾ kíղց աɑԵςհҽԵհ հҽɾ íղ ŚíӀҽղςҽ;
Tհҽ kíղց ςӀօŚҽŚ հíŚ Ӏíժ'Ś.
WհíӀŚԵ Եհҽ զմҽҽղ ԹҽҽԹ'Ś, Եí ʍҽӀҽŚŚ.

ííí.

SҽςɾҽԵ ŚԹíҽŚ, íղԵҽɾղҽԵ ժíѵíղҽ
EíցհԵ ԵհօմŚɑղժ, ƒíѵҽ հմղժɾҽժ ɑղժ ŚҽѵҽղԵվ Եաօ ʍíӀҽŚ ɑԹɑɾԵ;
Tհօմցհ ահíӀŚԵ օղ SkվԹҽ, ҽɑςհ օԵհҽɾ, ղҽ×Ե Եօ ɑղօԵհҽɾ
Síժҽ ҍվ Śíժҽ, ŚӀմʍҍҽɾíղց ҽղԵաíղҽժ, ցӀɑŚŚ Եօ ցӀɑŚŚ, օղҽ հҽɑɾԵ.



©Bɾɑղժօղ NɑցӀҽվ
©EɑɾӀ յɑղҽ ղɑցӀҽվ ժҽժíςɑԵíօղ
©ӀօղҽŚօʍҽ ԹօҽԵ'Ś ԹօҽԵɾվ

she slides her slender
white fingers down the
branches of his spine

her eyes melted like
glaciers and lips as soft
as freshly fallen snow

skin lustful, but heart
unforgiving, exhaling
his every intention

she is autumn in his
palms, her trees bare,
the leaves rust fallen

flashing indifference,
thoughts plucked in
shades of violent rose

She carried me aloft the firmament
To the Helix nebula;
Her wing's left trail's on earth of her beauty and elegance.



©Brandon nagley
©Earl jane Nagley dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry