i

In the impossible
I hath found the possible
As her education is far from
Terrestrial proficiency.

ii

In the death I dieth daily
She's mine starchild baby
As her gushing decorum
Is a forum to all saint's and good Samaritan's.

iii

She outdoes any in beauty
None doth cometh close
She's alive yet a ghost
Soo miraculously she sketches her maquillage.

iv

Her life-force is astounding
Spanish lingo of her's so attracting
Mine thirst for her is abounding
As a suckling I çryeth when she goeth away......

v

She maketh all nightmare's leave
Tis its her I am, tis she's me
Like a trapped bird, she set's me free
How daily do I wait her empress call to her throne!!!


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Elsa angelica dedication