A Compassed Ark Poem by Naveed Khalid

Not yet nowhere that in worn-out time,
I my days hath spent forlorn
away from high heavens e'ery departed look
to my shipwrecked dreams of eyes so blind,
unawares of the world around my head
in such subtle reality so cold and numb,
pour forth by love-sick thought on thee;
that star of thy most high deserts:
guides me my moving ere in so barren a rhyme of old,
I still hold dear o'er all else that is not mind or sense,
a novice feeling from nowhere arise, arise,
at sunset of the evening sky beyond the sunrise
of snow-capped myrtle at Minerva's golden brow!
e'ery fig leaf in autumn of mud-feet her falling snow,
carries no burden of thy yoke in yellow pages of history,
where I my feet hath tread upon the mundane shell,
thatday steals thy cherubim Wing o'er the horizon in deep azure,
while fealty's Apollo at my door against the bolted sky,
the presager of mine eye more eloquent:
thy iron car at matilda's farm, parked beside the oak,
cowslip her parted hair upon the sand dunes,
in full bright summer under the Archangel's brow;
haystack and straw in manger of mandrake roots,
full glorious days of our common affairs I behold, I behold.

C)Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Tuesday, December 22,2015 5: 20: 39 PM