our love scattering
like the song of the dark,

we are within our
wind-blown castle walls
where wild roses ramble,

we can hear
the sea
its withering song
like voices from
the dead,

our hearts, misty
companions,
beckon to each other
no strangers
to the pulse of love.

Pure
             In it's
                        Physique.
Beauty is the same.


            Just
                       Like
                                    Me.

the sun an arc of
flowering orange,
kiss me
as i have never been kissed.

you may not know me
face to face,
but you and I have connected
heart to heart through words.

Our lives are woven together by
the tapestry of words,
and into a living breathing poetry.

you and I are no longer strangers,
but fellow poets and sojourners
on this journey of creation.

1400

What mystery pervades a well!
That water lives so far—
A neighbor from another world
Residing in a jar

Whose limit none have ever seen,
But just his lid of glass—
Like looking every time you please
In an abyss’s face!

The grass does not appear afraid,
I often wonder he
Can stand so close and look so bold
At what is awe to me.

Related somehow they may be,
The sedge stands next the sea—
Where he is floorless
And does no timidity betray

But nature is a stranger yet;
The ones that cite her most
Have never passed her haunted house,
Nor simplified her ghost.

To pity those that know her not
Is helped by the regret
That those who know her, know her less
The nearer her they get.

good night
my dear poet.

you stream so well
and strong inside me.

that I've searched
for a
new homeland;
to declare
a country for words
you've been settling down.

Awake, awake my little Boy!
Thou wast thy Mother’s only joy:
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy Father does thee keep.

“O, what land is the Land of Dreams?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O Father, I saw my Mother there,
Among the lillies by waters fair.

Among the lambs clothed in white
She walked with her Thomas in sweet delight.
I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn—
O when shall I return again?”

Dear child, I also by pleasant streams
Have wandered all night in the Land of Dreams;
But though calm and warm the waters wide,
I could not get to the other side.

“Father, O Father, what do we here,
In this land of unbelief and fear?
The Land of Dreams is better far
Above the light of the Morning Star.”

He thinks her little feet should pass
Where dandelions star thickly grass;
Her hands should lift in sunlit air
Sea-wind should tangle up her hair.
Green leaves, he says, have never heard
A sweeter ragtime mockingbird,
Nor has the moon-man ever seen,
Or man in the spotlight, leering green,
Such a beguiling, smiling queen.
Her eyes, he says, are stars at dusk,
Her mouth as sweet as red-rose musk;
And when she dances his young heart swells
With flutes and viols and silver bells;
His brain is dizzy, his senses swim,
When she slants her ragtime eyes at him. . .
Moonlight shadows, he bids her see,
Move no more silently than she.
It was this way, he says, she came,
Into his cold heart, bearing flame.
And now that his heart is all on fire
Will she refuse his heart's desire?--
And O! has the Moon Man ever seen
(Or the spotlight devil, leering green)
A sweeter shadow upon a screen?

Go, throw yourself into the sea.
Let the sky catch your cares.
Let the wind wipe your tears.
Let the waves caress your skin.
Let the water catch your fall and lift you up
until the sun kisses your face.
Not all is lost when thrown into the sea.

Tea Leaves

The house seemed so small.
Yet here in my memory as a child
so very long ago it was always huge.
I walk through the rooms .
Familiar as they always were.

I can almost hear your voice
Calling me to the table.
Or to get ready for bed.

The packing had almost finished
Everything in boxes that would
never be opened again.

In your old kitchen I pack the
dinnerware that had had carried
our sustenance until I was an adult.
Piece by piece
I carefully place them in the box.

Then I find your tea cup
The one you used faithfully
each day of your life.
It still had a single tea leaf
Dried and on the rim.
Where your lips had been.

That is when the grief hit me
as it had never done before.

Midnight Music

From the window in my room
I hear the cadence of a tune.
Soft and gentle like the night
Like a hummingbird in flight

Midnight lights the mellow moon
In it light the flowers bloom
Nature pulsing in the air
Sending its  music everywhere.

In my garden I can hear
A thousand voices singing clear.
From under rosebush and inside briar
The sounds of angels midnight choir

Oh the peaceful dulcet tone
By the window all alone
Just to sit and breathe night air
And hear the midnight music there

Mother nature if there by chance
Join me in a midnight dance
You and I will never part
Your midnight music
Stole my heart

I locked mineself
To her leg;
I swallowed the key
I shackled mineself, into her head.

I seeketh not to be free
By wordly standard;
The great architect
Showed me, I'm free with her, tis she is mine lantern.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication