Naveed Khalid


Naveed Khalid Poems

121. Buttons, Buttons 11/3/2015
122. Ducklings I 11/3/2015
123. Clonus 11/5/2015
124. Nightingale's Song Ii 11/5/2015
125. Nightingale's Song I 11/5/2015
126. Cowboy I 11/5/2015
127. Rainforest 11/7/2015
128. Pitza 11/11/2015
129. Adieu! Adieu! 11/14/2015
130. Belle 11/16/2015
131. Winter Moon Ii 11/17/2015
132. Divine 11/17/2015
133. Bunty 11/21/2015
134. Mustang 11/22/2015
135. Alma Matter 11/23/2015
136. Abandon, Abandon 11/23/2015
137. Bread & Butter 11/24/2015
138. Little Man, Little Man 11/26/2015
139. Canvas 11/29/2015
140. A Bridal Dress 12/1/2015
141. Bridge O'er The Rainbow 12/3/2015
142. Chandelier 12/4/2015
143. Astronomy Of Aeon Years Ago 12/5/2015
144. A Redhot Kiss 12/6/2015
145. Marching Ants 12/7/2015
146. Alibi 12/7/2015
147. Obsession 12/8/2015
148. Lion's Heart 12/9/2015
149. Blending, Blending 12/12/2015
150. Amen! Amen! 12/13/2015
151. Bagpies 12/14/2015
152. Dance, Dance 12/15/2015
153. Ducklings Ii 12/16/2015
154. Prickle 12/17/2015
155. Balcony In The Chapel 12/18/2015
156. Brownies With Apple Tarts 12/19/2015
157. Little Shakespeare 12/19/2015
158. Mind Blocks 12/21/2015
159. A Buzz 12/23/2015
160. Bard's Soliloquy 12/24/2015
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

Summer's Eve I

You're but the presager of mine eye, more eloquent!
Of timeless tide her love of burning gold;
And in words, too, hath served the painter's art,
What oft by ghastly night is marked by thee,
That grows by e'ery passing minute a star!
Has nothing than this fedora of your dream:
All roses fade, withered from their cheeks all red,
The desert in my eyes with salt of seven seas,
From afar by world's wit to prove my bride,

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