Midnight Summer Dream Poem by Naveed Khalid

Not a waking dream of so rich my Muse,
needest more scope of poetry,
nor what lies burried with thy haggard bones
from sullen earth shall raise the reality of yore battered things,
of broken mast-shaft at north that canopy of a hut;
the world's eye is lit by a hallowed fire upon the sand dunes,
beside the oak, the majestic sun at my door:
nor of such Poet in whose great mind,
a moon-lit wedded night in silent hours
of soliloquy, goes soaring high above the dale;
against the windowsill of heaven's high bower,
the Eagle on wings, on wings far from the maddening crowd;
shook off his head with small minions of soring thumb impressions:
of what I most desire contented least in love for thee,
not to say I in those blessing hours hath found solace in full glorious days;
that hath past o'er in a twilight dream:
and that summer! you walked out of the barn,
past that old wooden house of mortal clay;
a loitering star still burns in haystack of woods,
all things of beauty at thy feet are writ ashore,
like to the lark at break of day arise, arise;
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown in my bed of crimson joy.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C) 2013.
All Rights Reserved.

Date: Friday, June 07,2013 2: 26: 24 PM

Title Revised from: A Midnight Summer Dream To A Midnight Summer Camp

Poem revised and rewritten on Saturday, May 16,2026 16: 56 PM