Changeling Poem by Naveed Khalid

Thus, happy I of fair weather days
in the mellowing spring,
from sullen earth arise, arise,
thinly wrapped around my head,
her atoms of beauty at break of day,
a white swan's ethereal Wing that weighs the air;
in solemn or strain this dull rhyme
to eternal bliss, of coral made,
heaven-ward bent my shipwrecked dreams:
awakes but a wonder in thine holy eyen, sweet maid!
of fealty's Apollo at my door, a rosemary garden
against e'ery flower upon a barren heath,
my sweet-scented letters unto the spine
of a book leaf in autumn;
no dark can e'er illumine this world
of thy most high deserts,
above the mundane, a spurious reasoner's mind,
beside the oak, a broccoli, in the late evening;
of clay and wattle-made thistles by the stream,
in wild ecstasy of pure heaven, our little john,
under the Archangel's brow of e'ery departed look
by the clover-beach,
her stumbled feet upon the sand dunes,
be my only woe thy iron car at Matilda's farm,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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