i
In the snowbroth, in the chill of the eve'
Mine aficionado inamorata shalt swoon me;
Under the gloss, of the ancient moss
Under the golden shower, overhead albatross.
ii
Thou art the apricity, when the wind bloweth cold
Thou art the castle, wherein is mine abode;
Thou art the rose, with none Thorn's attached
Thou art the night and day, a movie, stage, angel hatched
iii
Gorgonized, thou hath done to me
Directing me under thine foretoken;
Thine voice is quiet, though so captivating
Thy locution is so spiritual, liberating.
iv
Thou art a snoutfair, angel wing's, oriental hair
Freed I am, from the world of man, a perfected pair;
Thou maketh me want to do better in all of mine way's
I shalt loveth thee tommorrow mine queen, and more today.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
i
In the snowbroth, in the chill of the eve'
Mine aficionado inamorata shalt swoon me;
Under the gloss, of the ancient moss
Under the golden shower, overhead albatross.
ii
Thou art the apricity, when the wind bloweth cold
Thou art the castle, wherein is mine abode;
Thou art the rose, with none Thorn's attached
Thou art the night and day, a movie, stage, angel hatched
iii
Gorgonized, thou hath done to me
Directing me under thine foretoken;
Thine voice is quiet, though so captivating
Thy locution is so spiritual, liberating.
iv
Thou art a snoutfair, angel wing's, oriental hair
Freed I am, from the world of man, a perfected pair;
Thou maketh me want to do better in all of mine way's
I shalt loveth thee tommorrow mine queen, and more today.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
