A Tribute To Father Poem by Naveed Khalid

Hear ye not of what the star in secret
influence comment,
mere wild wagoner's wheel in rust
thy iron car at Matilda's farm;
of fair weather days e'ery flower upon
a barren heath,
heaven hath her golden bough
in the tree, of laurel wreath
thy myrtle crown,
of plucked parsley half-way between
the carpet upon,
a sailing boat is decked ashore,
beside the bed of oak,
outspread in leaves of autumn,
of wayfarer's clime, a broccoli,
be of subvert'd looks more scope to find
in yellow-pages of history,
thy book to read in rosemary garden,
entomb'd within thy gracious muse
my age-old love, sweet maid:
the setting sun of nocturnal grace thy most
high deserts at my door;
in whose footprints upon the sand dunes,
of mud-feet in first frost of her
falling winter snow,
this world of small minions that arise
against that masonry's night,
my shipwreck'd dreams
under the Archangel's brow.




(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C) 2016.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Monday, January 16,2016.2: 36 PM

Title Revised: A Nobel Farmer To A Tribute To Father