Harbinger I Poem by Naveed Khalid

Of sweet-scented silence in the mellowing year of spring,
That from summer's eve to season's breathless rhyme;
Oft I beget from high heavens along pen-pricked angels,
So sweetly wed to my thought by the crow's quill, my mind,
Not least in precise measure to account for love
Against e'ery fair from thy fairest brow,
This world uneclipsed of thy most high deserts:
Bespeaks of nothing but thy unattended presence,
Unawares of what goes soaring high above the dale;
The last dance of happy shades upon the strand of still waters,
I fain would bring to the page of so porous as the eyes
To a star-lit night in fair aspect of cold repose:
E'ery fig leaf in autumn wind ere thine unweird eye,
More temperate than darling buds of May by the sea-ashore.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Thursday, September 18,2014 5: 21: 54 PM