Ode To Love
I'll not show thee, love, in summer's prime,
That by the sun before your eyes,
Hath fled as well in ethereal wings,
What in beauty's look you still behold;
And by a worthier pen is writ alone,
Against time's e'er changing face:
A shadow from the tree of wilderness,
Of May morning in the mellowing year,
Full ripe gourd of some hazel nuts,
Which to my decaying form abides,
The world of your sickening desires,
a bag of bones with two lovers dead;
Oft rich in colour more scope of things abound:
Eternity! shall have no place in heaven,
Or else on earth if so you please,
Enwrought with stars the sky, moves on!
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2014.
All Rights Reserved.
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