A Rosemary Garden Poem by Naveed Khalid

Then, you in whose love of eclipsed doom
to bloody tyrant time,
e'ery flower upon a barren heath;
seekest no revenge in thy graceful ease,
of what to my mind still that bright-lit mirror
of thy most high deserts forlorn!
away from this fedora of yore dream
along the pavement of cow parsley,
heaven-ward bent that soldier's grave unknown:
where I my feet hath tread upon the mundane shell,
our little john upon the sand dunes hath set this path for thee,
the rest would follow at my door with pen-pricked angels,
no dark can e'er illumine in the late evening;
my shipwrecked dreams beside the bed of oak,
this world that shows not half thy part,
of untread places far-off beyond the sunrise,
against me myself to prove thee virtuous,
of whom, they say, not I to count more
thy blessings under the Archangel's brow.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Friday, December 11,2015 3: 57: 59 PM