i.

Betimes, in the ages of shadowed black
Stripes were mine Mark's, scar's on mine back;
I cried for a rescuer, a healer of medicinal fact's
She sprinkled me with her babaylan docteretic caress.

ii.

The tincture's she Gaveth me, were godly induced
Whenever her lingo speaketh, mine heart goes loose;
As tis she knoweth, she maketh me feel better to
She's a lullaby, when I cryeth, a queen, a poem, mine muse.

iii.

Tis she's mine solace, mine palisade palace
I'm the mad hatter, as tis she's mine wonderland Alice;
She maketh men crazy, with her beautiful charm's
I loveth mine queen, the angel in mine arms.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication