Abracadabra Poem by Naveed Khalid

From pole to pole of darkened earth's
infernal grove,
thy most high deserts beside the oak
my shipwrecked dreams,
of wayfarer's clime on top of the trees,
heaven hath her golden bough,
of full glorious days her night-long love
at my door of rosemary garden:
half-way between the carpet upon;
a broccoli, beneath the bed of crimson joy,
unfolds from yellow-pages of history
against the setting sun of our common affairs
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown!
holds me but in eternity of yore dappled things,
some dry leaves of book in autumn,
of clay and wattle-made thistles by
the western isle, e'ery flower upon
a barren heath;
while musing o'er the dale,
of forged manacles thy iron frame;
ages that are dead upon the sand dunes,
in reality of the mind;
such darling buds of may
at midnight lease this world all woe
under the Archangel's brow!


(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Saturday, October 01,2016.5: 17 PM

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