In a secret chamber mine love-
novel to other's, we shalt repose.
Thought's to not only be understood
In the physical, but in the kingdom
Wherein living water floweth
From ourn soul's. Pinnacle's
Defying scientific theory of
Time and space. For where
We shalt be there art sea's
Eternally unspoken; Only
By God shalt one seeith the
Glimmering turnstile, none
trespass allowed there, none
agápi to be defiled. Here, this
Place we shalt floshtarize in
unbarring liberty; a cordillera
Aloft the breeze we shalt ascend.
Ourn spirit's wilt twist and bend
To the notes of saintly chord's. O'
Anon mine girl, anon; we shalt sip
From the grip of turquoise pond's. As
The treasures we wilt collect, shalt be
providential, ourn residential abode-
white as snow, O'er the Show
of the most essential.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedication