i.

I wilt montivagant over her lid's
Whilst I ooze out of mine shoe's;
A bulrush to surround us, breezing
Swaying to freedom's wind.

ii.

We art kin, trapped in another's being
But this trapped feeling is good, carved into wood;
Ourn name's, struck by lightning, hidden by flame's
All's amazing with her comfort, for her I hush.

iii.

Silence is all I needeth, as I stareth to her guise
The sun waketh up, as her vintage reaches mine cup;
She's the core to all upward truth's
She's the reason to be alive.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication

I know a woman who emits light when she speaks,
Few hear her words.
She chooses them carefully and with grace,
They are a blessing to my ears,
and a comfort to my soul,
I sometimes wonder if moonlight bleeds from her fingers,
Maybe one day,
They'll illuminate my skin,
For now I'll keep her safe among the stars,
and like the dark,
Swallow the light when she speaks

Double rainbows in perfect colour coordination
-bridged high over the path I travelled down.
Two arcs synchronised, created together,
loving twins across the sky.

i.

South eastern
Asian otherworldly;
Design, of antediluvian time
Twas, i was inborn in the poetry of thy mind.

ii.

Aloft on the high's
Sith the beginning long ago;
The origin never started
Twas already eternal.

iii.

Preordainment was conceived
For me and thou;
We kneweth eachother in the butterfly nebula
What a breathtaking light show.

iv.

I promised thou then
That I wouldst never leaveth;
Mine queen, thou art the only one, earl Jane nagley
Please alway's knoweth that, and believeth.



©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedication/Filipino rose
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Breathe it in.
The smell of change
Is in the air.
Seasons and lives,
Deaths and births.
A kaleidoscope of colours rich
Upon the ground.
Branches stripped
Of youth.
Old withered arms
Seeking answers from the heavens.
Smoke pouring from chimneys
Where families gather
While the child
From a broken home
Watches from a distance,
Wrapped in scarves
And sadness.
The changing seasons
Making a mockery
Of that which
Stays the same.