No, not least I know a skipped beat
of untamed heart and cold,
that in a nous of light,
hath weaved around my head,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown
against the bolted sky,
my shipwrecked dreams
of that man-in-the-moon:
I still behold from afar
this world in thy sovereignty alone,
that in wild ecstasy of pure heaven,
oft steals looks from my bed of crimson joy.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2015.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Saturday, October 03,2015 12: 02: 01 AM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem