Cauldron II

a poem by Naveed Khalid, Pakistan

No second thought have I of e'ery departed look
my shipwrecked dreams,
that by looking more into unfathomable sea,
the sailing boat of drifting dream amiss,
hath but love-sick thought on thee, sweet maid,
this world of waking hour too shall pass at midnight lease;
away from high heavens has a spacious window:
you can look through far and wide, beyond the sunrise
against e'ery flower upon a barren heath:
many a woe-begone days to some rivulet blue;
hung aloft the ghastly night in silent hours of soliloquy,
I still behold thy iron car at matilda's farm in the late evening,
of golden tress his hair upon the sand dunes,
besmeared with time of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown,
makes a halo of a ring around my head, a golden bough,
beside the oak, still musing o'er the dale
above the mundane, a wackenhut of haystack and straw
our little john, under the Archangel's brow!
that day of christmas eve in the mellowing year of spring.
a man-in-the-moon of broken mast-shaft at north,
her stumbled feet of untread places far-off in my bed of crimson joy,
no dark can e'er illumine in rosemary garden.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C) 2016.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Thursday, April 14,2016 5: 36: 13 PM
Thursday, April 14,2016 5: 40: 57 PM

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