Christmas Poem by Naveed Khalid

Honey-combs in wattle and daub,
that heart-rending night
of rhyming footsteps by the sea-ashore;
while I stood at the door
of a hundred years from hence,
something fell from myrtle
in my bed of crimson joy,
along the pavement of cow parsley
at Matilda's farm,
that in nurslings of immortality
to thee suffice,
my sweet-scented letters
of e'ery fair from thy fairest brow,
my shipwrecked dreams to some rivulet blue,
oft on clover-tops but hangs a golden bough,
that crow's quill at sunset of the evening sky,
hath rendered numb my novice feeling
to fill my heart with love
against the harvest moon in autumn leaves,
some such snowflakes in winter cold.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Thursday, April 23,2015 6: 48: 22 PM