i.

Her slimikin fabric
sophisticated,
Advanced;

ii.

By God's mighty hand's,
She was swathed in
citrine quartz.

A sparsile separated
From the rest of
The universe.

iii.

Unadulterated by the known,
She likes thing's that art not seen;
By day she work's, yet craves-
The fall season and it's leaves.

Though fall doth not arrive
On the island she resides;
So she crochets, the dreams she
Saves, stored inside her mind.

iv.

Though I knoweth one day, the
Season's that she pictures in her
Head; wilt be there in her fingertips,
Along with angelic colorful thread.

To make everything And anything,
Her string canst weave to be;
For I knoweth whatever she maketh-
It wilt be perfect from mine queen.

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Sardua nagley dedicated( ang aking makakatuluyan) my soulmate dedicated- Filipino translation..

They say it's a choice:
A choice to love.
A choice to let go.
There is no fate or destiny impacting love,
It is solely
Choice.
I made a choice:
To love.
Love you with everything I had.
Through the roughest times in your life,
And through mine.
To love you when I had nothing but hatred for the world around us.
To love you when all I wanted to do was walk away.
To love you when you couldn't love yourself.
I made this choice, and I made it for months.
But there came a month where I chose to let go.
I chose to allow someone else the opportunity to love you.
More than I did and
Better.
I did not choose to stop loving you, that is something one can not do; yet I chose to set you free
From the burden you carried because of me.
I chose to love you from afar,
And that may be the worst choice of all.

You keep me warm,
with you, things are good
I never feel cold with you,
even when I should

You hold me closely
with you, I feel safe
I want to stay with you, *always.

.
Her charms cannot be hidden,
laying languid in soft repose,
cloaked in dreams of night,
to her secret fantasies she goes.

Doe eyes closed in star sleep,
sweet gentle breath from parted lips.
A shift of woven mist she wears,
nestling flirtatious about slim hips.

A moment stirs her silent rest,
a sigh, rises, pours and escapes.
Anticipating beauty, the inner promise,
of doe eyes when she wakes.


© Pagan Paul (26/11/16)

was watching barbie dolls on seven
and saw you once again
Your neck now wrinkle free
Those legs wrapped around my head
Things I begin to think
Like the twinkle in your eye
That you add to blush and smile
Legs wrapped around again
Like the preacher's daughter said
Little feet near the bed
sixty-three pounds
but, very hard to carry

Watching barbie dolls on channel two
The one that squeaks and squeals
Still beats out a pig
Lady Godiva still looks great
The horry housewife stays in shape
Don't need no horse to ride on out of town

Watching barbie dolls at ten
the times; the changes
Too many blondes again
So many years
So many roads
I like the one
that lived up north
but I won't have a wallet
that size before some time again

Turning the TV back to mantle
I've had all I think that I can handle
The gold dust twins are there again
I wonder will it ever end
This could lead to stronger stuff like the old bottle

Lady Godiva never looked so good
The best provider for the push
She made me love; she understood
I love my barbie girls I watch on my TV