#elsa-angel-angelica
i
Sophisticated not as metal-steel mechanic's
Not a domestic to gargoyle theology
She's a seraph, who only knoweth pure.
ii
The Luna to her is her finer amare
The DNA of life passes through her hair
As she playeth truth and dare with her own self.
iii
She seeketh none help, a woman of God
Foresee's the hero's from slob's
As men around her mob, like a desert after dinner!
iv
Though sorry boy's she's mine
I claimed her long ago
When this palace was broken by lazor night show, I held her...
v
She's tender as a flower
Tis I waiteth for her throughout the hour's
The coward's do try her, to hurt her, yet I wilt never break someone so tender....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Elsa angelica dedication
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
centelleo, centelleo, mi amour',
I shalt travel by foot, right to thy door!
Up above the moon so high,
I shalt exhilarate thee in thine mind.
When the colorful universe hath passed,
And All the glacier's melt so fast,
Then thou wilt illuminate,
centelleo, centelleo, on ourn impresionante date.
Than the watchmen in the dusk
Giveth thee thanks, of aloe and musk:
He couldst not seeith which way to flyeth,
But thine own light to all inviteth.....
In those dark brown eyes thou keepeth,
And always in mine soul thou peepeth,
For please don't ever close thine eye's
Until mine lips art met with thine own so fine....
As thy centelleo glints mine room,
And as thy centelleo is flared by thee mine muse,
I shalt continue to be thy poet
Writing a million poem's a day for thee so everyone shalt know it.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
Latin goddess,
Spanish by descent
Her hermosa voz do I reminisce
©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC