Acrobats Poem by Naveed Khalid

Of motley's house in amber woods
such darling buds of may,
more temperate than e'eryliving heart
can afford in silent hours of soliloquy,
of wild hunches my glorious days in the late evening;
beside the oak e'ery flower upon a barren heath
unto the spine of a book leaf in autumn,
that man-in-the-moon under the hedgerow of a cottage-tree:
can never illumine my shipwrecked dreams,
of fealty's Apollo at my door, a rosemary garden;
hung aloft the ghastly night I behold at Christmas eve,
grows and withers in time's waste at midnight lease this world
upon the sand dunes, my love of seventy winters
have thy November, less be heard by old folks, good at ear
than what the stars in secret influence comment,
that crow's quill of plumed hat on knees in ruffled feathers,
the reality of yore dappled things in the mellowing spring,
our little john, of fickle foe's fiddle in heaven's high bower,
still musing o'er the dale of meted-out word in my bed of crimson joy.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C) 2016.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Monday, May 30,2016 2: 11: 52 PM

previous title modified from: A Boar To Acrobats