What irony! of thought so insidious this world
in subtle reality of the mind,
down the lane in amber woods,
first frost of her falling winter snow!
beside the oak at day of christmas eve,
of fealty's Apollo at my door
e'ery flower upon a barren heath
of her night-long love in rosemary garden:
while musing o'er the dale in silent hours
of soliloquy, such stepping stones above a firehurst;
hung aloft the ghastly night I still behold my shipwrecked dreams,
less defined by time those loving moments
of white swan's ethereal Wing in a flaunt flemingo,
small minions that arise from slumbers deep,
of wrinkled lip in my spilt words upon the stand dunes,
pricked with a furr coat in the cellar-barn,
the cat still purrs at the citadel
of her good old days in my bed of crimson joy,
so fairly lost scope of e'ery departed look in the late evening;
full ripe gourd of hazel nuts in my account,
of clay and wattle-made thistles by the stream,
some dry leaves of book in autumn;
heaven-ward bent my sweet-scented letters
o'er the wall on high by two lovers dead,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown.
(C) Naveed Khalid
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Date Created: Monday,12 September,2016 12: 51 AM
Greenlice! HEER's HEEL ASK11 IIII
RED & GREEN JELLy