Bonnie & Blithe Poem by Naveed Khalid

Forbid me, lord, to see her love in dismal shades
of age-old grey,
not least befitting of passion worn
her stumbled feet to my shipwrecked dreams,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown,
against the world of thy most high deserts,
no dark can e'er illumine under the Archangel's brow!
this thy tabernacle so porous as the eyes:
besmeared with time in the late evening,
of fealty's Apollo at my door in rosemary garden
e'ery flower upon a barren heath at midnight lease,
hooked up with some words upon the sand dunes;
beside the oak, a broccoli, beneath the bed of crimson joy,
weighed down by my bagpies thy garment wear,
a burning goblet in the rainforest but a child of fig and clay,
of less travelled time to my well-contented day be still,
her musings o'er the dale with pen-pricked angels,
better off my mind, our little john, of fickle foe's fiddle,
blows the trumpet horn in white swan's ethereal Wing.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Monday, February 29,2016 4: 06: 42 PM