She is not just a woman, or just some mere creation to me.
Seeith, she hast a halo, fulsome and rapturous in highest degree.
Seeith, doth thou friend; her eye's as a muffled jungle panther;
They dance the uncultivated bush, the wind here is her laughter.
Cool, it bloweth upon thine sweltered cheek's, she's unseen;
Like a dream, she is the shelter every forager desires to keep.
I'm hidden amongst the shrub, dying to taketh a peek;
I want to catch a glimpse of her, in all her amour', her taste, fine;
Her spirit is mine, one of a kind, a dining shine, whilst the moon,
In ourn room, she clutches mine anatomy, O', how I'm so happy.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication ( filipino rose)
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 10:23 AM UTC
She is not just a woman, or just some mere creation to me.
Seeith, she hast a halo, fulsome and rapturous in highest degree.
Seeith, doth thou friend; her eye's as a muffled jungle panther;
They dance the uncultivated bush, the wind here is her laughter.
Cool, it bloweth upon thine sweltered cheek's, she's unseen;
Like a dream, she is the shelter every forager desires to keep.
I'm hidden amongst the shrub, dying to taketh a peek;
I want to catch a glimpse of her, in all her amour', her taste, fine;
Her spirit is mine, one of a kind, a dining shine, whilst the moon,
In ourn room, she clutches mine anatomy, O', how I'm so happy.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication ( filipino rose)
