A Red Hat And The Green Pepper Poem by Naveed Khalid

What needest I of churl bones the reality
of yore battered things,
be more subtle than e'ery looking glass
that shows not half thy part,
away from high heavens, ah, but to illumine
this world of ages that are dead upon
the sand dunes, some dry leaves
of fair weather days in the mellowing spring;
heaven hath her golden bough in the tree,
o'ershadowed by what you hide from eternals
e'ery flower upon a barren heath,
of way too far at midnight lease her looks
to the lark, keeps me out of bed but of late;
beside the oak in self-consuming art,
full ripe gourd of hazel nuts of haystack
and straw, this plumed hat on knees
in ruffled feathers; marsh-mallows
of her night-long love at my door
of rosemary garden, small minions
that arise from soring thumb impressions,
else where but to find in much dearth
of thy most high deserts,
the setting sun in age-old grey of first frost
her falling snow at clover-beach:
of clay and wattle-made thistles
by the stream in wild ecstasy of pure heaven,
I still hold dear to my shipwrecked dreams,
unattended by the clock tells no time
of e'ery skipped beat my sweet-scented letters,
hath salt of seven seas under the canopy
of a hut, down the lane in amber woods,
a rustle in the wind blows the trumpet horn.

(C)Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Monday, July 10,2017.2: 56 PM