A Black Friday Poem by Naveed Khalid

Of way too far the setting sun in deep azure,
that half-baked masonry's night,
on a cloud couch rides the sky,
half-way between the carpet upon,
beside the oak, such stepping stones
of first falling winter snow her night-long love,
full glorious days of enchanting slogans in disparity;
a broccoli, beneath the bed of crimson joy,
too but corrupts the mind, at midnight lease this world all woe,
of cut-out trees in the rainforest e'ery flower
upon a barren heath under the Archangel's brow,
this darkly drowned enigma of yore drifting dream amiss;
some mirror to hide from eternals thy most high deserts,
of fealty's Apollo at my door, that goes soaring high above the dale
in much too wreckage of a nerve at day of Christmas eve,
this sorry scheme of things most abounds by thee alone,
of smokey suburbs by the shabby island
some dry leaves of book by the west wind in autumn,
make a halo of a ring around my head,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown;
small minions that arise in rosemary garden
of e'ery departed look in the late evening,
down the lane in amber woods,
of wrinkled lip in my spilt words upon the sand dunes,
beyond the sunrise my shipwrecked dreams of a golden clime.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C) 2016.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: : Sunday, August 28,2016 8: 32 PM

Title Revised: From A Good Frida To A Black Flag

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