Little Man, Little Man Poem by Naveed Khalid

Sleep on, Sleep on to such odd sightings,
that of dumb ear in slumbers deep,
e'ery loving look that becharms the skies;
beyond the sunrise to my shipwrecked dreams
hath rent at midnight lease a star, my love,
of thy most high deserts upon the sand dunes,
away from subtle reality of this world forlorn;
where I my heart hath fed with a voice of airy nothing,
bony-clad, hand in hand we walked a mile:
of untread feet her skipped beat speaks of days
that are gone in whirlwind of quickening haste to my bed,
beneath the sheer taut surface, a broccoli,
weary with toil in secret influence comment,
filled with love of starry wheels from dust covered page
of thy book in withered leaves at sunset;
sticks out his head like a soring thumb impressions,
no dark can e'er illumine with pen-pricked angels,
of ages that are dead against the harvest moon,
a horse's hair from off abroad served a painter's art,
that crow's quill picks crumbs at my windowsill.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Thursday, November 26,2015 3: 54: 01 PM
Thursday, November 26,2015 4: 04: 49 PM
Thursday, November 26,2015 4: 14: 25 PM
Thursday, November 26,2015 4: 22: 39 PM