Beaumonde Poem by Naveed Khalid

(On Yeat's Maud Gonne)

That last of legion at the stone of Bohan
of broken mast-shaft at north,
too, but beweaps his outcast state forlorn;
all too weird in reverse reflexion I behold,
that to a land of fairies abides by thee alone
at sunset of the evening sky, of pensive looks this world
hath rendered numb my novice feeling to fill my heart with love
of thy most high deserts in fair aspect of cold repose:
as merry weather day in autumn to the sun in deep azure,
oft on clover-tops but hangs a golden bow against the harvest moon,
I fain would bring to the page of eyes so blind my ship-wrecked dreams,
more temperate than darling buds of May in summer's prime.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Sunday, March 15,2015 3: 56: 38 PM

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