i

I seeketh one, to not showeth me amour in parable's
I seeketh not one, to maketh me feeleth as if some variable;
I needeth one to behold me, forthwith in her humbled eye's
I needeth one whosever, mayest showeth me reality before I die.

ii

I hopeth anon, she shalt be here to hold this trembling hand
None tare's in mine romantic view, only a queen diamond glued;
Hither she'll cometh, and fall upon me into mine worried chest
I want to feeleth her head, upon mine pillow and bed, with rest.

iii

Thence to haveth a best friend, with a angel ring upon her finger
We'll sing and dance, sweet romance, whereupon our dinner;
Victuals of finest respect, fruit glassed to meet ourn fast needs
For a dove to landeth upon ourn rooftop, wherein serpahim sing.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry