Shadows From The Childhood Poem by Sajad Meer

One from the rarest of my fancies,
That the Morpheus bestowed,
I had a one of joy in the
Breast of dark eyes of mine.
The Scent from the Heavens,
Of mound roses touched by the,
Love of God himself, from the first coming,
My two magicians saw the carriage,
Timed from clay to stone of the cause,
Cause of childhoods that i
Have spent in air sweetened by the,
Lively words that came floating,
From the green green trees...oh that!
With eyes shut for hours,
and Soul from sears,
I struck to the days of the smiles,
When i thought with heart and toes,
And carved myself on the green lovers,
And my sacred fonds on them.
That ' i rode on the waters'
Of passions, as cherries on the trees.
Now Scenting fancies, at jerks and ticks, i woke up!
As had been the rule of the Sender,
Of time and humming of the morning.
Now scenting the fancies, stirring,
It left me in hocks of pricking love,
Of the memories of that Love-hood,
And left me in solitude,
That i should never carve myself again,
On the trees for years to come.
That, do not slit my dark magicians again,
Again and n'r haunt my breath,
Now, even the roses do petal,
And not even, i do the carving.
Even keeping the numbers away,
Haunted and slited again, am I.