A Cat Walk

a poem by Naveed Khalid, Pakistan

Ah, then, this world of thought so insidious,
tinged with star of old,
beneath the bed of crimson joy, a broccolli,
robbed of me my rosebed,
of subverted looks her night-long love
hath her golden bough in the tree
by the western isle,
first frost of falling winter snow
under the Archangel's brow!
e'ery flower upon a barren heath
of days that are gone against the setting sun,
beside the oak, my shipwrecked dreams,
those stars you'd them beaker full,
while musing o'er the dale at my door
of rosemary garden,
of crowquill such darling buds of may
away from high heavens small minions that arise
like to the lark at break of day,
of darkened earth's infernal grove
thy most high deserts in the late evening,
be my only woe of ages that are dead upon the sand dunes,
pricked with a furr coat in the cellar barn,
the cat still purrs at the citadel in nurslings of immortality,
my sweet-scented letters in yellow-pages of history;
down the lane in amber woods her stumbled feet,
plays a hunch for the parade of laurel wreath
thy myrtle crown at clover beach.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C)2016.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Tuesday, October 04,2016.11: 55 P.M

* the last line modified to avoid tautology
Title Revised: A Saxophone to A Cat Walk

*Barbie doll: Path_S I R _

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