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brandon nagley Aug 2015
Like an infant boy, every time going to check mine mailbox; none amour' letter's to cometh through. I beseech to getteth a note, a colorful card inside, one to maketh me smile openly, walking back to the abode obliged; I seeketh to open that little secret, behind the thin sliced paper, to smelleth the perfume of one's hair soaked into that little amare kindness........... O how I seeketh such a grapheme; tis all just a dream.........

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Would love a real love letter; want to smell ones hair and perfume between the paper to feel them there with me... To feel there soul linger... I love writing hand written notes yet noone wants mine lol oh well Maby some day...

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