"carcanet" poems
How rich and pleasing thou, my Julia, art
In each thy dainty and peculiar part!
First, for thy queenship, on thy head is set
Of flowers a sweet commingled coronet:
About thy neck a carcanet is bound,
Made of the ruby, pearl and diamond:
A golden ring that shines upon thy thumb:
About thy wrist, the rich dardanium.
Between thy ******* (than down of swans more white)
There plays the sapphire with the chrysolite.
No part besides must of thyself be known,
But by the topaz, opal, calcedon.
2.3k
I bade thee apace, to bring thy comely countenance close to
Mine face. A carcanet around
Thy neck I shalt wrap, every
Jewel made of mine inner-
Being; hush, mine lips art
Dry mine queen, I need
The most of thy skin to
Cure this winter's chap.
Coëval we were; now
Distanced by glass an
Shores, I crieth til mine
Lungs burst, just to
Be in thy presence.
To face the same view,
To smell thy ocean essence.
Fingers I use to write and jot down
Words that art stuck in mine throat;
Mixed in with quiet fears, worries, hopes. I dive beneath this red blanket, in loneliness I do cope, thy warmth do I hope; to slip into this space. Imagine I, imagine I do, of a panoramic place to explore open and closed doors, wherein the soil clings to ourn feet, where the normal word's art "mi amour". How I do wait, even eternity; to be one in thy freshet of bubbling lovingkindness.
O' how I am pent; awaiting mine chains to break to fly to thy abode.
©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
©earl Jane nagley dedication (agapi mou).
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 11:16 PM UTC
I am not magnificent
not her
I am not a finery
not her
I am not a carcanet
nor a diamond
not her
I am no angel
not her
I was not made from all the
good things in this
world
not her
I am a ghost
not human
nor any living thing
not her
I am hateful
not her
I am angry
with me
not her
not you
I am not her
that's not your fault
she's beautiful.
December 2nd 2013, 10.58 p.m
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 11:05 AM UTC