A Bunch Of Fools Poem by Naveed Khalid

Have I not enough wits to prove thee virtuous
against all odds, all vicissitudes of the sky,
more than thy argument is to show thy pride,
of such looks in witness of thy name too dear!
no love can hide from eternals of fealty's Apollo at my do'r
this world in much dearth of thy most high deserts
under the Archangel's brow!
of cowslip her parted hair upon the sand dunes;
half-so-ill, distempered brain in a drag of suspended consciousness,
hung aloft the ghastly night I still behold in the late evening,
e'ery flower upon a barren heath in my bed of crimson joy,
the heart that fed in nurslings of immortality,
beside the oak, thy iron car at Matilda's farm,
those pearls that ne'er come out to the surface,
oft steal looks from off thy ancient lyre of snow-capped myrtle,
of what the stars in secret influence comment
in solemn or strain this dull rhyme of eyes so blind,
has a meted-out word unto my shipwrecked dreams.

(C)Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Monday, July 11,2016 8: 56: 14 PM