I needeth her as if there's no tommorrow
I wanteth her in mine times of sorrow...

I feeleth her, though she's across the country
I want to giveth her food and drink, when she is hungry.

I seeketh her upon the moon
Because I knoweth she's not here,
She's up upon her glowing muse....

So I looketh up and seeith her dance
She looketh so lovely
With her moons sweet romance..


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry