Westley, Westley, my white Westley,
white as a swan, my English!
of such a stroke and rupture wild,
that by each word dribbles down the chin,
his cliche of some common place stalwarts:
they pick the thread from where the words
are weaved of a needle thin;
and suck there where the bloody tyrant time
has left his mark permanent,
a few phrases get stuck up their sleeves,
ready to let out the same old daemon,
always there! hung on the wall, my white Westley!
a sponge of tears on the floor,
of thumb-nailed eyes, our teddy bear!
the world of humane feeling too dear,
Westley, Westley, my white Westley,
white as a swan, my English!
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2013.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Wednesday, January 29,2014 4: 11: 10 PM
* Teddy bear
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem