Of nocturnal grace her charms beget I
in nurslings of immortality,
needest not at midnight lease
such darling insights of skipped beat,
her stumbled feet beyond the sunrise;
of woe-begone days my shipwrecked dreams
in the backyard of rosemary garden,
e'ery flower upon a barren heath:
oft steal looks by love-sick thought on thee,
of fealty's Apollo at my door this world,
no dark can e'er illumine under the Archangel's brow,
beside the oak in the late evening,
I my feet hath tread the mundane shell,
all wrapped in Hades of a star,
that crow in whose crippled countenance,
squirrels make hoards in haystack of woods,
cuckoos sing to eternal bliss with pen-pricked angels,
against mirror of thy most high deserts,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2015.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Monday, January 25,2016 7: 14: 56 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem