Assonance

So struggle weary, I had forgotten how to fight
But now I smile as a stand above this battle site.
Because it was not me, sweetheart, it was you
And I have been rediscovered by someone new.

i.

Within the oven
Wherein the thirst is never quenched;
Mine sweet Jane cooleth me
With her word's, and love to me meant.

ii.

I liveth for her the morrow
I liveth for her sunder the eve';
Her everything to me meaneth all thing's
She's the lifeblood, whom I need.

iii.

Mine aching body needeth her
Mine hand's, they needeth her feel;
A birthgiver to mine happiness
Mine gosh, her amour's so real.

iv.

****, beautiful, masterpiece of God
For her mine soul, belongeth to, and throb's;
I'll seeith her soon, in the Asian fogged dawn
I'll seeith mine muse, the pure one of God.

v.

She's all I desire, when the flood's do rain
She's the glory in sadness, in mine pain;
She's whom I liveth, when mine blood leak's
I canst sayeth none more, I'll let mine love speak.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/mine Reyna/soul

If our love
Is not enough
To make you
Forget about
Old lovers.

Then please leave.

Blue eyes,
               disguised,
by scattered specks of green.

Red hair,
             compared,
to a lion's messy mane.

Pale skin,
              unhinged,
from a fury of freckles.

Strong voice,
                    rejoiced,
with wonder, will, and wistfulness.

Gentle heart,
                    apart,
from pain in his past.

Rough hands,
                      demand,
his lover's hand to hold.

Soft lips,
             kissed,
by his one and only,
                                 me.

A MOST astonishing thing --
Seventy years have I lived;

(Hurrah for the flowers of Spring,
For Spring is here again.)

Seventy years have I lived
No ragged beggar-man,
Seventy years have I lived,
Seventy years man and boy,
And never have I danced for joy.

1285

I know Suspense—it steps so terse
And turns so weak away—
Besides—Suspense is neighborly
When I am riding by—

Is always at the Window
Though lately I descry
And mention to my Horses
The need is not of me—

Joy stayed with me a night--
Young and free and fair--
And in the morning light
He left me there.

Then Sorrow came to stay,
And lay upon my breast
He walked with me in the day.
And knew me best.

I'll never be a bride,
Nor yet celibate,
So I'm living now with Pride--
A cold bedmate.

He must not hear nor see,
Nor could he forgive
That Sorrow still visits me
Each day I live.