A Dragon Skin Poem by Naveed Khalid

Why wouldest I play ye on with
such stepping stones,
of plucked parsley down the lane
in amber woods,
more subtle in reality of the mind,
her night-long love upon the sand dunes,
the feet that tread of e'ery departed look
in the late evening,
of wayfarer's clime beside the oak;
a broccoli, robbed of me my rose-bed
against the setting sun my shipwrecked dreams;
hung aloft the ghastly night I still behold,
a boat slowly drifting away from out
of the blues in still waters, first frost
of falling winter snow at my door
of rosemary garden,
while musing o'er the dale in silent hours
of soliloquy, above the mundane,
shall someday be raised from dust-covered page
of thy book, outspread in leaves of autumn,
this world of wild hunches at christmas eve,
I deny thee most of woe-begone days
her enchanting slogans of disparity,
needest not in nursling of immortality
thy iron car at Matilda's farm.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C) 2016.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Friday, December 16,2016.4: 58 PM