Lo! Las vegas lights of unattended looks
to e'ery passer-by o'er the rainbow bridge,
parked beside the clover beach,
I could see thy iron car
of half-baked masonry's night
o'er the wall on high by two lovers dead
against this world forlorn,
that bright-lit mirror of thy most high deserts:
has a hold me height in heaven's high bower,
above a funeral pyre, of snow-capped myrtle,
that day of unaltered eye in my bed of crimson joy,
apart from where you tread the mundane shell;
of furrowed fields against the harvest moon,
the farmer still works to land, day-in, day out
of paradisaical injunctions in haystack of woods,
full glorious sun of our common affairs at sunset of the evening sky.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2015.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Tuesday, October 06,2015 3: 11: 22 PM
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