Boar Poem by Naveed Khalid

Methinks not of love amongst e'ery flower upon
a barren heath,
of wayfarer's clime in the late evening
that half-baked masonry's night,
her stumbled feet upon the sand dunes
mere wild wagoner's wheel in rust at my door
of rosemary garden,
that fair youth in whose age-old love
away from high heavens my shipwrecked dreams,
I still hold dear under the Archangel's brow:
that Christmas eve of snow-capped myrtle
at midnight lease this world all woe,
hangs but a golden bough on top of the trees,
the sun of our common affairs still musing o'er the dale
in haystack of woods besmear'd with time,
of crowqui'l my glorious days in much too dearth of
thy most high deserts, beside the oak,
such darling buds of may in my bed of crimson joy,
needest not in nurslings of immortality thy iron car
at Matilda's farm of her first falling winter snow
along the pavement of cow parsley in deep azure.


(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Thursday,4 August,2016.3: 17 PM

* Gateway504 where least I find in the groping dark