Vineyard Poem by Naveed Khalid

Somewhere deep inside the vein of thought
that by thought alone my mind
of unaltered look in the mirror;
oft by travel tired my pilgrimage to thee,
of ages that are dead, blind of looks so fair,
above my head a star guides my moving
away from Chapman's Homer:
unlooked for love my Lord's light at Cortez,
curtailed behind the canopy of a hut,
an olive branch by thatch-eaves is run,
hung aloft the ghastly night in slogans of disparity:
I could hear him speak through sign posts,
such words of a far-fetched sky,
neatly dovetailed along the pavement
of cow parsley, a drop of vintage hides,
still in haystack of woods burning, burning.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Saturday, October 04,2014 4: 18: 45 PM