#angelica
Sweet Angelica,
An overwhelm of your leafy
ramifications, waxed verdure
affections for a wayward wind.
My eyes caught the emerald glint;
now they glisten green
in a poetic apotheosis.
Should I deem you guilty
that 'twas the devil's walking stick
that sired you,
as virid envelope,
so delicate that every leaflet
would blend to a fine herb repast.
So I brave your prickly defences
in my manner of white tailed deer
and nibble of your leafy poetry.
A half mouthed curse that you sting
but your arbour rose
where none grew and I thought
you bloomed especially for me.
Rhizomes spiralled for life,
and the taste of muddied rain.
Other wanderers tried pillage
those jejune early fronds and
you recoiled in thorny armament,
a conflicted poetry I read on you.
Look at you now ...
largest leaf than any other in a North wind,
towering panicles that draw
a chorus of winged angels, quills.
These be the battlements of love
that will shed for life, in beauty
for when Summer leaves, there'll be Fall,
then the long rest of seasons.
Jun 21, 2021
Jun 21, 2021 at 12:12 PM UTC
“Angelica arguta”,
He shows her his wildflowers
“Angelica Susannah”, he says.
And prodded further by her
His heart.
Lingers briefly with the night;
Her affection has power,
But not enough
To keep him
From marching off to fight.
Tristan, son of One Stab,
Brings wildness from the mountains.
Lovely woman from the East,
Fascinated by her,
His passion.
Revels in her bridal bower,
And stops her
Loving any other.
Alfred, eldest son of his father,
Full of rectitude and romance.
Angelica abandoned,
Adrift between the mountains
Becalmed far from the sea.
He takes advantage,
Snatches her soul with riches,
But never captures
Her longing heart.
Years pass and one son gone,
The other lost and mad.
Year of the red grass and
Happiness found
Is felt too soon.
Tristan loves young Isabel,
But Angelica is his doom.
Yet only he survives
The waves that lash her shore,
“Like water in the ice,
She breaks them.”
And in the Spring,
Is gone once more.
Angelica Susannah is buried
Above the box canyon in the meadow
Among the many dead.
Near Samuel’s heart,
The executed Isabel,
And others who follow soon.
Until only Tristan remains,
Left to hunt his nemesis,
The bear inside him.
And dream of one wife lost,
And a lover left behind:
Angelica Susannah
Beside whom he should lie.
He is slain by the bear in Sixty-three,
After forty years of solitude.
And laid to rest in the plot
Between two women he loved,
Isabel, his ingenuous wife
And Susannah, his tragic love.
Do their spirits meet at last
And wander the golden fields,
Or ride out to bathe in the hot springs,
Under the moon of the falling leaves?
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 10:37 AM UTC
*"So how is she like?"
"Like an angel."
"And what are angels like?"
"Well it's just that when they are near you, you feel happy inside."*
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 12:25 PM UTC
my words take shape of verses while talking to you
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC
i
Ireland onto greecian-land then onto the Spanish aisles
Scotland, bypassing England, than a thoroughfare of French wild
Wherein the wild-child is me and mine amare, flower's in hair
ii
Than onto Africa, wherein we canst ride the elephant back's
Gazing the scenes, to feedeth the poor and hungry, seeing past all
The great china wall, the markets of Morocco, to India's beads.
iii
Charm's shalt adapt us, as we were their own,no technology
No phones, just collections and folds, of ourn novel Romance sealed by ourn kiss, the altitude of the moon is ourn marital bliss.
©Elsa angelica dedication
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
Seraphic art her ways
Displayed on heaven's fountain
Drinking wine from her lonesome cave
I shalt abide with her in her solace.
Sidereal she's in reverence toward's her white-out orb
A woman, not a girl, just passing through to explore the tour's.
Distress she weareth upon her chest, as her hope dost dwindle
I shalt shake her and taketh her, wherein mine arms a fire kindles...
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Elsa angelica dedicated
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 1:06 PM UTC