A Roman Wall Poem by Naveed Khalid

No, not in half-measured looks
from afar,
but which to speak in precise words
by the clock to eternal bliss,
set against time's devouring hand,
of e'ery skipped beat her battered things
in reality of the mind,
this darkened earth's infernal grove
in wild ecstasy of pure heaven:
hides from eternals e'ery flower upon
a barren heath, of first frost
her falling snow,
against the setting sun at my door
her night-long love,
of seventy winters have thy November!
beside the oak, outspread in leaves
of autumn, a broccoli;
heaven hath her golden bough
in the tree, the farmer still works to land;
of furrow'd fields, a star-y velorum:
makes the world a-merry-go-round
by the sweat of thy brow
under the canopy of a hut,
still wed to my thought, so fairly lost
scope of days that are gone
in my bed of crimson joy;
of wrinkled lip down the lane
in amber woods,
her stumbled feet upon the sand dunes,
my shipwrecked dreams of small minions
that arise in thy presence alone,
oft steal her charms, bereft of sight
more bright such stepping stones
in rosemary garden, of haystack
and straw, the debris of ruin'd ashes
at clover-beach, scraps of tin-bags,
labelled with smokey suburbs
by the shabby island this woeful song
of the harplings.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C) 2017.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Tuesday, January 31,2017.1: 22 PM
Title Revised: From A Roman Column To A Roman Wall