Bellerina Poem by Naveed Khalid

Thus, I so spake that in my retiring room
e'ery looking glass that shows not half thy part,
of untamed heart's forfeited first in winter cold
to that day of unaltered eye I still behold
that in largess of some thought but to thee suffice;
which to deny thee most in waste of words my mind,
hath such sweet-rugged path of untread dreams
along the pavement of cow parsley all the panorama of this world:
her most ardent desire to fill the page with what I least contend,
of clay and wattle made thistles by the stream o'er the lagoon
to account for love of thy most high deserts,
of eyes so blind in silent hours of the night;
ere you know the hand that writ in mournful numbers
e'ery flower upon a barren heath in my bed of crimson joy,
ah, my darkened days to illumine more bright,
that crow's quill needest no light at sunset of the evening sky.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Thursday, March 12,2015 7: 32: 07 PM