"accentor" poems
i.
Feral escapees, from captivity,
Created with wing's, born to
Be free; not of society.
ii.
Jungle madness, surroundeth
The tree's, foliage of wed-lock,
Thou and me.
iii.
Accentor's creepeth the thicket,
Caples we rideth, babes of the
Cariole; astrology inside us.
iv.
Bimarian aqua, to overfloodeth
The dry, boscaresque detail's;
Rainbow's in open sky's.
v.
Brabreum of a sound,
Musical citharize; I'm
Far aloft the ground,
Psychic's; clairvoyant's
On incline.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
In the dead of Décembre¹, resided an elegant Accentor² dressed in all the hues of a fresh pumpkin. His rotund chest of tangerine could be spotted instantly among the frost laden branches of his bark-made household.
Throughout harvest, his henna back was effortlessly disguised amidst the fallen leaves of autumn. He was often found solemnly reviewing the state of the abundant acorns while the slight breeze lifted his earnest feathers.
Across warm season, his amber spots shined as radiantly as the sun when he floated to a near pond for a drink. The abounding dragonflies derived delight from boastfully gliding to and fro above the glittering water. Warmth lingered in the limelight as long as it could.
Along the cherry blossoms of spring, the top of his emerald head often appeared in a scene of expected triumph once he took in his mouth a bit less than the recommended daily dose of crimson berries left in the grass from winter.
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Décembre: December
Accentor: a type of small bird in the genus Prunella
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC