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Barnaby Festivity Ode

El Dorado, of her first falling winter snow,
so heavily weighed down by my bagpies,
mud feet all immersed in largess of some thought
far-off beyond the sunrise in autumn,
needest not her charms of departed look
this fedora of yore drifting dream amiss
away from high heavens,
see! how bereft of sight unchained from the stars;
of gracious muse, my love, under the bolted sky:
that by fealty's Apollo at my door this world,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown around my head
in white swan's ethereal Wing hath rent at midnight lease,
of eyes so blind e'ery flower upon a barren heath
against thy most high deserts still musing o'er the dale,
violet blues that melt in the grey evening,
beside the oak upon the mundane shell,
of snow-capped myrtle in nurslings of immortality;
our dr-do-little john upon the sand dunes,
shows not half thy part of woe-begone days
my shipwrecked dreams at Minerva's golden brow.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights(C) 2016.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Tuesday, February 02,2016 2: 27: 55 PM
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