Beulah Poem by Naveed Khalid

No! not least can I of my adversaries be part
to play a hunch for the parade,
away from e'ery departed look in wild ecstasy
of pure heaven
this world of my shipwrecked dreams,
better off my mind e'erything that seems but a far-off cry
of what a star in secret influence comment;
even though I thought thee more bright
at Minerva's golden brow!
where least I find more be less of unhindered scope
that half-baked masonry's night:
many a woe-begone days at sunset of the evening sky:
needest no light to becharm the skies of thy most high deserts,
ere you know the hand that writ in mournful numbers
e'ery flower upon a barren heath, above the mundane;
of eclipsed doom to bloody tyrant time,
darkened earth's infernal grave under the Archangel's brow,
my love that shows not half thy part in rosemary garden,
of eyes so blind against me myself to prove thee virtuous
in white swan's ethereal Wing,
feeds upon nurslings of immortality, our little john,
of golden tress his hair upon the sand dunes.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Tuesday, February 16,2016 3: 39: 14 PM
Tuesday, February 16,2016 3: 40: 24 PM
Tuesday, February 16,2016 3: 41: 32 PM
Wednesday, February 17,2016 2: 13: 52 PM