Thither the flambeau donjon
In the somber of the dim,
I shalt plaster mine heart on mine sleeve
Hoping someone shalt let me in.
For tis I'm not the rest
I've lived a life of sin's,
Though I'm a hopeless romantic at his best;
I'm one to loveth until the end.
As guffaw I shalt do
As one wilt maketh me laugh,
Underneath the universal life-lamp
Glowing steadily in Shakespearian bask.
And if noone canst seeith the amour that I do bring
I shalt continue on, in a manner so unearthly.
None recompense needed, for she shalt not hurt mine being
Mine kisses shalt delighteth her, in the finer of life's thing's.
And when the bee's stingeth me, with their tiny stinger's,
Mine lover shalt kisseth on the wound, as mine heart wilt groweth bigger.
As a dinner and fine date;
Me and her shalt rest to candlewax figure shadows,
The shadow's being ourn own on the moonlit ceiling
Like two loving little rascal's....

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry