From the dusts of day
a day singles itself out
as forever remembrance.

On his calling
they met at the harbor town.

She had traveled all of twenty miles
from her seaward village
to pose with the city boy at a roadside studio
humidly dark from the blinding sun outside.

Time was captured eternally for the moment
the photographer drew them closer
freezing two awed eyes in frame.

They knew couldn't last
that unearthly day on the harbor town
made to stand closest
sparking a craving in their skin
and then passing into black and white postcard
of two sweating face
in absurdly ridiculous happiness.

The boy's copy was lost in the wind
but he loves to believe
the other is safe with her.

i.

light in lazy pools
patches of shadow
like closing doors.

ii.

i float
like a ghost
open the sky
like a love letter.

iii.

a bird hovers,
shudders to
a sky that
unwraps its
dreams like
inky pools.

iv.

greyer than ghosts
that kiss for my
lips,
that trembling
of my heart
just for you.

i.

Gramercy, it hast been one year now, one year of smiles, laugh's, cry's; growing together, growing
Wing's in ourn flight.

ii.

Fain I am, to seest thee at night, slumbering as a newborn, queen
Of orbiting light's, woman of mine
Insight; sagittiferous to mine
Burden's of life.

iii.

Let me clear away that vultuous countenance mine girl.

iv.

We art namelings, with ourn letter's hewed into the highest realm, noscible to the Angel's; we
We're recorded on God's
Film.

v.

Perantique we art, as we battle the being's that fell, they've broken their iron locked doorway's; to make their way out of hell.

vi.

Stand close to mine side, I canst heareth those wedding Bell's, I canst feeleth the earth to swell, as the labor pain's art now.

vii.

This place shalt sway and moan, like a drunkard without a home, the living in Christ shalt rise; with the dead already rose, silver an treasures shalt come to naught,
Home good's and store bought,
For men won't grasp their own
Thought's; as the misfortune
Cometh upon them. Lover's wilt
Love themselves, they'll seeketh life
In the devil's Lip's; for the lies he speaks art quick, powerful,
Deceiving, cunning.

viii.

Look on high mine Jane, ourn lord is coming, the globe is spinning to the drum of celestial prophecy;

None stopping wilt be, yet we art free, a king and queen with a heavenly home, with mansion's
To roam, streets followed with
Gold, with like-minded souls;
Awaiting ourn entrance.

This one year wilt lead
To an eternal precipice,
In which we shan't miss,
As all wilt take focus;

For we hath life, mine Jane
Ourn hope is this;

One son of God
Who goes by the name
Jesus; ourn hope and ourn
Reason even more to be one,
To showeth another and all
The Savior's dying love, and in him
Salvation alone, fret not mine lass, soon we shalt go home, soon all ourn waiting wilt be gone, and ourn hand's shalt hold.

Two spirit's to be;
One love,
One soul.

look up
Look up

The time is now close......



©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane sardua Nagley dedication ( agapi mou)
© Lonesome poets poetry