Naveed Khalid


Belle - Poem by Naveed Khalid

No, I'll not least be moved
by what to thy lost memory
of another's plight made new;
a church bell at the door
of untread places far-off
beyond the sunrise,
beside the bed of oak,
that in whose age-old love;
rest content be oblivion
in the backyard of my garden
e'ery flower upon a barren heath,
that crow's quill on wings, on wings
against time's tickling toes
in the late evening,
heaven-ward bent this world
of thy most high deserts,
darkly lit in the mellowing year
of spring,
under the Archangel's brow.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C) 2015.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Monday, November 16,2015 11: 32: 16 AM

Topic(s) of this poem: beauty of rose

Form: Ars Poetica


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Poem Submitted: Monday, November 16, 2015



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