A Bone Marrow Poem by Naveed Khalid

Ah, then, death do us part, and in parting so,
more blessed of ages that are dead
upon the sand dunes, of golden tress his hair
by the setting sun at my door,
of furrowed fields, a star-y velorum
hath led me to rosemary garden;
while musing o'er the dale in silent hours
of soliloquy, of plucked parsley
half-way between the carpet upon,
outspread in leaves of autumn
from dust-cover'd page of thy book;
small minions that arise in much too
wreckage of a nerve,
I still behold through staircase window
of the wall on high,
above the archway, her night-long love
of fair weather days in the mellowing spring,
beside a wrecked boat that motley's house
at clover-beach, of first frost
her falling winter snow;
hung aloft the ghastly night by some
lone bark of a tree, the eagle on wings, on wings
keeps me out of bed but of late,
such ill-fetched schemes of veneral amores
runs in deep sorrow, my deeds to pry,
oft makes haste e'ery flower upon
a barren heath,
my shipwrecked dreams down the lane
in amber woods,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown
under the Archangel's brow,
no dark that by dark more bright.

(C)Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C)2017.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Monday, February 06,2017.4: 26 PM

* Rewritten: Kasoti No: 7 Jack Lives here, but master of none.

* "Know thyself"