what are you thinking, alone over there.
am I on your mind, can you picture me clear.
what would you do, if I was there and not here.
would it make a difference, would you even care;
                             I think not, cause we've been there.

What are heavy? sea-sand and sorrow:
What are brief? today and tomorrow:
What are frail? Spring blossoms and youth:
What are deep ? the ocean and truth.

I beg you
don't leave the sky

when dark clouds billow in the south
the weary winged hurry home

overhead on the dead blue
jupiter and venus are born anew

the wind slows to silence
trees loom night's shadowy ghost

nocturnal birds sing on their new day
you feel your breath as they fall

the clouds spread across the sky
cracked by the lightning

a drop lands on your stretched palm
soothes all the burns in you

you melt in love
by the torrents falling from above.

don't leave for shelter
I beg you
when heaven arrives here.

God bless the one who PRAYS
PRAISE the Lord's heavenly REIGN
RAIN on me, then warming RAYS
RAISE my soul to a higher PLANE

PLAIN and simple, he can HEAL
HE'LL save any sinner TOO
TO him, surrender yourself WHOLLY
HOLY father is for me and you


PRAYER

oh Lord, can you hear my PLEAS
PLEASE shelter me from the RAIN
REIGN over me with a watchful EYE
I long to make it to your domain

Among'st a non-judging expanse,
Creative clouds dance.

Through fields one might prance,
Find a tree and sit
Or take a different stance.

See it fully or just give a glance~

The clouds, they form in multiplicities,
Reflecting simplicity;
Expanding creative form explicitly.

What'll it be?
How'll it grow?

Beautiful sky of freedom's form,
Modify your figure and break the norm.
Show me what never dies and is forever born~!

And reveal to us in time what is on the inside,
Usually hidden when worn.

I saw this in the clouds today, when I was bored..

Tis
Today is the day;
To post the unknown poet's
Spread their poetry, maketh them a way.

Tis
Now is the hour;
To maketh the shy one's star's
Giveth them the power.

Tis
Today is their day;
The great's, the unseen
Come on h.p, let's fulfilleth these quiet poet's dream's.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry