Far from off this world that hides
from eternals,
e'ery looking glass that shows not
half thy part,
of woe-begone days her night-long love
against the setting sun my shipwrecked dreams;
I still behold in summer's prime,
a brocolli, beneath the bed of crimson joy:
in first frost of falling winter snow!
some such snowflakes at my door
of rosemary garden,
beside the oak e'ery flower upon
a barren heath
under the Archangel's brow!
of crowquill this love-sick thought on thee,
more bright at day of Christmas eve,
the heart that fed in nurslings of immortality,
of ages that are dead upon the sand dunes,
in reality of the mind from nowhere arise, arise.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2016.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Wednesday, October 19,2016.1: 57 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem