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 Aug 2015
SE Reimer
~

where clear blue sky meets water's deep
his sunbeams reach her waves to tease,
to warm her currents, foaming spray;
dawn to dusk when daylight fades,
till only afterglow remains,
an interlude of celestial stage.

he speaks to her on written sky
and in the mournful sea-bird's cry,
wraps sultry ribbons in her tresses,
his fingers linger in caresses,
and in soothing choreography
he gently stirs her ocean's breeze.

he sends her gifts of palm and dates,
wrapped on waves in salty sprays;
watches her with much delight,
he sings to her each eventide,
love songs with the calling gull,
and rocks her tween the gusts and lulls.

wedded at horizon’s edge,
devotion to her he has pledged,
to have forever and to hold,
his comfort to her storm-tossed soul;
his tender kiss on tear-stained cheek,
where clear blue sky meets water's deep.

~

post script.

when one gazes
into the vastness
of sea and sky,
of what is from
height to depth
an endless blue,
one cannot but think
of eternal devotion,
of the relationship
between two who have
pledged their forever troth!


as i wonder from what recesses
this one came, i remember…
our 36th wedding anniversary
is fast approaching...
i’ve been thinking of what to gift her
that will make her cry anew.


**thank you to Hello Poetry for
the tremendous honor bestowed
with their designation of this poem as the daily
and to all who have expressed their heartfelt
love and appreciation... your message
came through loud and clear...
there can be no denying it,
i am an incredibly blessed man
because of each of you!  
thank you, truly,
from the bottom of my heart!
 Aug 2015
brandon nagley
Mine Jane
O' mine jane;
How I canst not waiteth
To seeith thine face.

Mine Jane
O' godly jane;
Ourn bones shalt locketh
Inside, between ourn hand's.

Mine Jane
O' darling jane;
When we do meeteth
I shalt removeth thine old stain's.

Mine Jane
O' angelic jane;
Douse me in thy slaver
Showeth me that amour, thou hath written on paper.

Mine Jane
O' **** Jane;
Bringeth thine leg's closer
Maketh me beg, pull the blonde on mine head, be the chauffeur.

Mine Jane
O' goddess jane;
Throweth me down, back to the ground
Jump on me, childplay.

Mine jane
O' Filipino Jane;
Calleth mine name
I'll yet back louder, us both bursting in hott flame's.

Mine Jane
O' masterpiece jane;
No word's, hush love
Taketh me again.

Mine Jane
O' mine Filipino rose;
Who careth what other's think
The whole world already knoweth.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
slaver means saliva in old tongue for you who don't know (:
 Aug 2015
Ignatius Hosiana
If your embrace was a dungeon I woud
Use up the final seconds of my freedom
Walking right into your arms and never appeal my detention
If your stare was an arrow, I'd die with a thousand arrows in my eyes
If your voice was acid, many would call it suicide
For regardless of its corrosion I'd burn trying to drink it
If your words were grenades, I'd be blown closing in to have you whisper
If holding hands with you was condemned, I'd still do it behind bars
If missing you wounded me, I'd be dotted with everlasting wounds and scars
If falling for you was the epitome of failure, who would want to prosper?
If your fragrance was fatal, the world would die
By your knees attempting to savor at the most beautiful
Of flowers among the providence of nature
If you were an Angel, you would be a reason for commotion in paradise
If your kisses were a poison, I'd spend my very
Last breath with mine locked with a tenderness  to your lips
If hearts could physically be owned, yours would be mine for keeps
There's nobody else in the universe I'd rather woo
For it is my belief if perfection were existent it would be a thing close to you
If you were not human, you would be a butterfly, beautiful
And I would fall each time you flutter by, I would be beauty fool
 Aug 2015
brandon nagley
As tis I walked the wood's
Alone and afraid;
I hath found a honeycomb
As the honey drips, from mine sweet Jane.




©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
 Aug 2015
SøułSurvivør
~~~


i looked unto
a seplechur sky
deepest dungeon of blue
wreaths of wraiths
beseached the hills
before the day was new

whisps of vapor
reaching up and out
ten thousand ghosts forlorn
all looking for the morning sun
wishing to be reborn

sad and lost
they wailed there
at the closing of the night
plain the pain and deep despair
magical the sight

i felt a tear
roll down my face
they were so pale and wan
i watched the sun rise
o'r the hills
looked back and

they were gone


soulsurvivor
(C) 8/13/2015
this poem was inspired by
clouds i saw a few weeks ago
an awesome sight
low hanging and wispy
just like ghosts

I'm only on site a short time
mom is still quite ill

thanks for your prayers
 Aug 2015
brandon nagley
As poet's we tend to get caught up in ourn own writing
As I canst lieth, I do as well;
Though we must not forget, whilst getting caught up
In reading ourn favorite poet's poetry on here
And writing ourn own,
We must NEVER forget
The unknown poet's here
The ones in the back of the room
The backbone to the poetic world and society
The quiet one's
Who seeketh none fame
Though they art famous
In a quiet way
As tis we must helpeth them
To spread their quiet wing's;
And flyeth on,
And helping another unknown
As the one's known
Helped us....



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
 Aug 2015
glassea
she may hurt, but she is not pain.
she may fail, but she is not a failure.
she may be tragic, but she is not tragedy.

*she may feel worthless,
but this, too, will pass.
so it's always worth reminding people (i.e. myself) that just because you feel something in the moment doesn't mean that it's permanent. an emotion is an instant, no matter how long the ache lasts, and an instant cannot define you.

(thanks for the daily!)
 Aug 2015
ryn
I am but willing prey to the wiles of the full grown moon.
She guards the night sky...
While I patrol these grounds...
Grieving over the seconds that have gone too soon.

I am a vessel... all emptied and barren.
what once was full,
now echoes faint
the glories of yesteryears.
Afloat still, adrift upon the currents... aimless and sullen.

I am a ghost... haunting no one but my own.
Immortalised...
Anchored...
to a body of mist and haze...
Occupying this space where worthy wind had once blown...

I am a beggar offering nothing but my open palms.
Hope etched tight
into my knackered knuckles
and calloused digits.
Please... take them in yours...
soothe them...
grant me your touch, your coveted balm.
 Aug 2015
ryn
Lend me your eyes.
So I could fill them
with the bursting stars.
Telling tales of the spellbinding universe,
singing songs of exploding suns...
and of splintering quasars.

Lend me your thoughts.
So that if I may,
write of them.
Fantastical scribbles of love
and praise.
Meticulously lined
and carefully stitched...
with immaculate lace at the hems.

Lend me your breaths.
I'd catch them as they fall...
between the words you would say.
Merging mine with yours...
introducing colour...
and vigour
to my monochromatic world of
black, white and grey.

Lend me your heartbeats...
for mine thumps erratic.
As if beating in silent mock.
I depend on the steadiness in yours.
So they could usurp
the ticks of worldly clocks.

Lend me your hands.
Palms up as a sign,
perhaps as an invitation...
for me to take them.
And maybe...
hopefully fill them...
with mine...
 Aug 2015
ryn
.
Adrift...                    
Time has no hold over these
currents that carry me.
Coursing over this seemingly
endless journey.
Caressed and nudged
by an invisible hand...
Perhaps my grave awaits below...
Where light is swallowed
and is too afraid to show.
The desolate demeanor
of the submerged tombless land.

Adrift...                    
Blind to what lays in store...
Oblivious to...
The faint whispers of a distant shore.
The mythical horizon is but a dream,
worthy only to the steadfast
and the resilient.
Not to those who'd fray at the seams.

Adrift...                    
Ripples amass and finally cresting.
Wake up... Waves are breaking.
The sand beckons bearing open arms
to home and sanctuary.
I glance back to
the calm of the watery plain.
My feet aren't ready to be received by
the grit and grain.
I'd like to linger here...
In the water, with the shore so near.
For I've longed and travelled far...
but
I'm still not yet ready...
.
 Aug 2015
ryn
Awake this day...
And never fear.
I believe...
everything would be much clearer.
This day more than most...

For this day...
And everyday forward,
the sun would rise in haste to propose a toast...
to the undoubtedly most significant people... 

in my heart...

The moon would pull on the tides...
My thoughts and well wishes on waves they ride,
racing to farthest reaches of your recluse.

Just so this day you'd know
More than most days would show...
That my belief will withstand the fires of a hundred guns.
That my love would blaze with the fury of a thousand suns.

Know that,
this day the planets and stars finally would inherit their orbit true.

This day...
And everyday forth...

the universe would and must revolve around you.
For the writers who've left...
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