If you look in the corners
Of my heart
You'll find One
One was the first to plant
The small seed of love
In my young heart
From it flourished a red rose
He found it so beautiful
He decided to rip the petals off
Once he held them in his hands
He decided to go find another rose
One was the first
I wanted him to be the last
He was there in the past
He will be there in the future

Two
Was the second to arrive
He found the red rose
And saw that it was dry
His eyes were oceans
And he drowned the Rose in them
He was not satisfied with having
Only one Rose
He found someone else
To be his last
I opened the door for him to leave
So he wrote his name in the past

Three
Was the Christopher Columbus
Of the oceans of my heart
Three rediscovered the dying rose
And nurtured it
til the petals grew back
He wanted to erase the past
So he painted the petals white
And said it represented innocence
He adored the Rose
And admired its' beauty
He sang songs for it
Believing it would
Grow more beautiful
2 months too late
He realized it never would
He loved the idea of the Rose
Not the reality of caring for it
So he ripped it out from the roots
And wrecked it with his hands
He left empty handed
And left me empty hearted
Three was the third
I still dream about him
Being the last
I wish he wasn't
Stuck in the past

Four
Was a gardener
He knew his way around flowers
And had with him many dying roses
I should have known
He planted a rose bush
Fed it love poems and pretty songs
His voice was the only water
The roses would ever need
Once they had bloomed
He ripped them out
And went on his way
Onto some other heart
He was never truly mine
I had always been his
He won't be my last
He left too many scars
I put him in my past

ⓘ.

Eⓐⓡⓛ
Jⓐⓝⓔ
Nⓐⓖⓛⓔⓨ.

ⓘⓘ.

Hⓞⓟⓔ
Lⓘⓕⓔ
Lⓞⓥⓔ.

ⓘⓘⓘ.

Eⓐⓡⓛ
Jⓐⓝⓔ
Nⓐⓖⓛⓔⓨ.

ⓘⓥ.

Hⓔⓐ­ⓡⓣ
Sⓞⓤⓛ
Mⓘⓝⓔ ⓑⓛⓞⓞⓓ.

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

I used to have a love for the ocean,
But now it's surely gone.
I laid delicately on the beach one night,
But I disappeared by dawn.
Even though they warned me the water was dangerous,
I built my castle on its sand,
I believed no one could destroy my sanctuary,
But you weren't something for which I planned.
When I saw your waves approaching,
I knew it was far too late,
For my walls were very strong,
But I was naive and left open the gate.
You threw me into your vicious hurricane,
Swallowing me whole,
You stole the heart I kept inside,
And all that's left was hollow.
You knew I had no defenses,
So you swept me away in your tide,
Even though you hid the smirk from your face,
You couldn't mask your pride.
I allowed you to be my ocean,
And you selfishly consumed every part of me.
It's just really sad knowing it was only one mistake,
*And I'd forever lost my love for the sea.

Copius family
When my day's aren't so good.

Populous of the kisses
From my dandy, she make's bad better, and mean's understood.

Irksome Hassel's
I easily from these get upset.

Anger comes out
From word's not meant, the old guitar does pay the rent.

A shiny string , my wife who sings
Zero cool, to make me drool. Her vocalizing makes me fling.

Far out I tell her, she's a low down rocking mom
Rocking out, passing out, to Guinness green applause.

Sɦɛs ռօʋɛʟ
                   Sɦɛ's ʄʀօʍ tɦɛ ʊռɛxքʟօʀɛɖ;
                                    Aռ ɛռɢɨռɛɛʀ, օʄ օtɦɛʀ աօʀʟɖ's.






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

golden streams of sun
sink, unwrap, dance,
melt into the trees
like honeycomb,
silver the ground
with their tender warmth.
the day is dying but so gently
that the shadows can only lengthen
dreaming their dreams of the night.

ɩ.

Aʆʆɩɾmҽɖ ɩى ɷųɾŋ amɷųɾ'
Mɩŋҽ appɭҽ, ɷʆ tɧҽ ىtaɾىtɾųck tɾҽҽ;
Mɩŋҽ ɭɷѵҽɾ, mɩŋҽ qųҽҽŋ.

ɩɩ.

Aѵɷw I wɩɭt
Fɷɾ ɩʆ mɩŋҽ bɭɷɷɖ ɩى ىpɩɭt;
Pɭҽaىҽ kŋɷwҽtɧ mɩŋҽ aʆʆҽctɩɷŋ ɩى tɾųҽ.

ɩɩɩ.

Aى tɧҽ wɩŋɖ, aŋɖ ɾaɩŋ ɖɷtɧ mɷѵҽtɧ
Daŋcҽ wɩtɧ mҽ ɷŋ ʆɭamɩŋɠ ʆɩɾҽ'ى;
Iŋ aɭɭ attɩɾҽ ɷʆ maɾѵҽɭɷųى ɠɾɷwtɧ.

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

ɨ.

Bʟaċҡ ʍɨɖռɨɢɦt ɖʊsҡ ɦaɨʀ
O' ɦօա ʄaɨʀ;
O' ɦօա ʄaɨʀ.

ɨɨ.

Assʊaɢɛ ʍɨռɛ aռɢʊɨsɦ
Dօ ɖaʀɛ;
Dօ ɖaʀɛ.

ɨɨɨ.

Maҡɛtɦ aʍaʀɛ tօ ʍɛ
Iռ ċօʟɨsɛʊʍ ʀaքtʊʀɛ;
Fօʀɛʋɛʀ aʄtɛʀ, sɦaʟt tɦɛ staʍք օʄ ċօsʍɨċ աaʋɛ's ɛռɢʀaʋɛ ʊs.

ɨʋ.

Nօռɛ tօ ɛռsʟaʋɛtɦ ʊs
As օʊʀռ ʟɛɢ's aռɖ ɦaռɖ's aʀt ʄʀɛɛ;
A աɨɖɛ ʊռɛaʀtɦʟʏ sċɛռɛ, աɨtɦ օʊʀռ ռɛɛɖ's ċaʀɛɖ ʄօʀ.

ʋ.

Bʟaċҡ ʍɨɖռɨɢɦt ɖʊsҡ ɦaɨʀ
O' ɦօա ʄaɨʀ;
Hօա ʄaɨʀ tɦօʊ aʀt.



©Brandon Nagley
©Earl jane Nagley dedication
©Lonesome poets poetry

เ.

Mคкเภﻮ l๏שє
Iภ tђє lคภ๔ ๏ﾓ tђє Pђเlเקקเภєร;
Wเtђ ๓เภє ﾓเlเקเภ๏ ợยєєภ
Iภ ค ﾓเlเקเภ๏ ๔гєค๓.

เเ.

Iภ ค ﾓเlเקเภ๏ гєคlเty
Al๏ﾓt ﾓเlเקเภ๏ ςl๏ย๔'ร;
N๏ ђєคгt'ร t๏ ๒гєคкєtђ
Tђє єคгtђ รђคlt ợยคкєtђ, ﾓг๏๓ ๏ยгภ єςђ๏เภﻮ ๏ﾓ ร๏ยภ๔'ร.


©Bгคภ๔๏ภ ภคﻮlєy
©Eคгl ןคภє ภคﻮlєy ๔є๔เςคtเ๏ภ
©L๏ภєร๏๓є ק๏єt'ร ק๏єtгy

Think about the brightest star
Ever to grace the midnight sky
Think about the softest glow
That can bring a smile alive

Think about the tranquil bliss
That each morning fills our hearts
Think about the softest touch
Which you never want to depart

Think about the tightest embrace
The one which takes breath away
Think about the most beautiful kiss
Which you found ever to grace your day

Then you will always be reminded of
The treasured glow which lives inside
Whenever I feel the magical touch
Which embraces me daily from your eyes.