i.

A sapphire raceme, Symbolic dimples,
Radiciform, Ak-Shabreeze, consecrated;
Impeccable temple's.

ii.

None remembrance, of bygone vice,
Resumption of the new; perpetual
Life. Ramate by ourn rib's, sedated
By the paradisiacal.

iii.

Levitating toes, aloft the colored covenant,
O'er the bended bow, of God's plan's that
Art meant. We yaw the pleasant valley's,
We strum the lyre's of ahava; taking
Slowly to ourn peach rim's, desired
Coconut and guava.

iv.

Yealing's of another time, artist's of the
third peculiar mind, by the creator's
Design; finding another, amid the
Pearlescent hue.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( ahava) dedication

So, it starts when he sends you a meme to start a conversation
Wow, what a weird yet clever way of communication
The meme was funny yet not funny, difficult for interpretation
Anyways, you send an emoji to keep up with the situation...
Then , he comments on your picture showing little admiration
You comment a smiley back, maybe a little persuasion??!
He views your IG story, to your grammar, he replies some correction
Then begins " hey, you kinda cute" , a little flirtation
Well, you reply back , with a little hesitation?!?
Then begins the daily WYD , HYD exaggeration.
The talks become fun with matched perception
Sure, he did his little stalking investigation
Then you stalk him back, with mere observation
He seems decent, maybe you could take him into consideration
The chat goes on for awhile, then you get a date invitation
First you make him work for you, even though you've got rush of excitation
Finally you agree to meet him, he already made the reservation
The day of the date came, called your friends for a little motivation
Then you met him, he was just like the one in your imagination
Talked a little, laughed a little, held hands too. He took the initiation...
Returned back with a glad face, was thinking of him, then your phone buzzed with a notification
" I had a great time with you. We should meet again!" , the ditto exclamation.
Started talking everyday, met regularly, was the beginning of a beautiful creation.
His lips were soft, he smelled so good, oh what a sensation!
Vibes matched , energies matched , what a transformation!
This could be her " happily ever after" Congratulations!

We drive through the dark
to her home,
radio lulling small back seat bodies,
so late that our DJs have hushed
and only the rustling burr
of an AM station remains,
in and out like consciousness
with songs of eternal love,
bread of heaven
ar hyd y nos

i'm starting to really see it as the next Kenya,
the Maldives or some obscure care
for a seashell...
   exotica of an exile... funny how
there's no book entitled: the exile...
      oh the misery of the jew,
double afront with israel being met -
that there's the book of exodus,
   but there's no book of exile -
  czerwone korale!
   czerwone niczym wino!
korale z polnej jarzębiny!
i łzy dziewczyny wielkie łzy! -
i cite those words, to quote the unconscious,
to cite the primodal drive to
   a feeding to relocate to a
   shared ethnicity, nothing
to concern the spave voyage...
to craft global economy, and
cite Neil Armstrong...
   to be level headed, and to be of the earth
bound, and unto earth returned...
    best be readied to accept
morality, than dream-up immortality...
but i am a marriage...
i am but a marriage...
      i dance to a polonais, and i dance to
a viennese waltz! and i shout hey!
and i shout tango! too...
                 such that the song be folk,
and be the song of rowan...
          and given global affairs:
it's nothing but cheap, a care to huddle,
a care to hide...
   a care to ask for a tortoise shell
and equal worth of year upon year
to match up to the most deserved
  wise-men talk of immortality:
the żółw and the dąb:
   Mietek! pats na ten żółwidąb!
do tańca Mietek! do tańca!
na tron oko sokoła! nic po nas z tą
flegmą reszty, co o cycek
           świni maca pocałunek, i ssa dobytek!
pierdolone kuci kuci, hyda... mlask
takiej miłości! obfity w usta zamoczone
   w piździe i oleju. ach nie to!
dawaj panie! niech tym dodać
co nie jeden tchu hyd!
                 jak złodziej Tuwim...
  ja też pragne wtargać sie w tło Ęngliszczyzny;
ach nie tak...
            ratój panie Bank! ratój panie dynamo!
ratój panie swój ostatni włos!
a patem panie bij go panie,
         ten jedyny włos... o kłos!
a wtedy z takiego poczynania: wydób księge!

The fields of green are stepped with red blood
our comrades lifeless in the mud
A king his temple wiped by a cloth of gold
today a nations history will be told

Upon a hill a dragon roars
unfurls its wing the dragon soars
He raises his sword to a nations cry
passionate hearts unafraid to die

The enemy routed from their land
sons and daughters together stand
The dragons roar set them to flight
in pursuit long into the night

Yet as we march into our two thousandth year
we still fight for freedom with no fear
"We are still hear", became the cry
but for how much longer we wounder, why

Then the dragon roars upon that hill
our hearts and souls began to fill
With the pride and passion that made our land
so, our sons and daughter make one last stand

History will tell us about our last fight
and if the enemy was routed long into the night
And if the dragon is still soaring above, so high
and if, "We are still hear" is still our battle cry

Ry'n ni yma o hyd