Naveed Khalid

Naveed Khalid Poems

401. Sanorita 8/9/2016
402. Torrential Rain 8/20/2016
403. A Kettle Drum 8/23/2016
404. Carnival 9/12/2016
405. Carpe Diem 9/12/2016
406. Cowslip 9/12/2016
407. A Martyr 9/21/2016
408. Abracadabra 10/1/2016
409. A Procession Of Horse-Riders 10/3/2016
410. Albino 10/9/2016
411. A Red-Haired Witch 10/9/2016
412. Ascent Of Sap 10/10/2016
413. A Boy 10/12/2016
414. A Tribute To Mother 10/12/2016
415. A Room Mate 10/17/2016
416. Poison Ivy 10/19/2016
417. A Gift Box 10/23/2016
418. Machete 10/24/2016
419. Macho 10/24/2016
420. Master 10/24/2016
421. Kabbalah 10/24/2016
422. A Youngman From Verona To The Library Archives 11/1/2016
423. A White Swan 11/1/2016
424. Stigmata 11/1/2016
425. Annelids 11/5/2016
426. A Lost Poem 11/6/2016
427. Arbitrator 11/7/2016
428. Bowtie 11/9/2016
429. Bataclan 11/9/2016
430. A Squirrel's Song 11/9/2016
431. A Bend Too Deep For Woe 11/11/2016
432. A Global Village 11/17/2016
433. Fair 11/24/2016
434. A Compassed Ark 11/25/2016
435. A Green Mug Of Coffee 11/28/2016
436. Three Lines Of Indian Hierarchy 11/28/2016
437. Amanda's Kitchen 11/28/2016
438. A Witch Hunting 11/30/2016
439. Ali Et Alia En Couple 12/1/2016
440. A Gravestone 12/2/2016

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Best Poem of Naveed Khalid

Ode To Love I

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...

Read the full of Ode To Love I


This world that leads me on to where no feet hath tread,
Nor no scope of light to my eyes so blind;
And all doors are shut under the bolted sky
Of thy unattended presence with no destiny in sight,
More bright that crimson bed of wanton tapestry at thy throne,
Uneclipsed of looks so fair, my love, from thy fairest brow,
La rose! moves me more so than by thee what I write
Through e'ery pouring shadow ere thine unweird eye:
Some vulgar paper to rehearse, too deep for woe,

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