Catching Fireflies Poem by Naveed Khalid

Of golden tress his hair
upon the sand dunes,
that in silent hours of soliloquy,
plays tricks of old in the back of my mind,
beside the oak tree in heaven's high bower,
no dark can e'er illumine of cherubim Wing his love,
becharms the skies beyond the sunrise,
all wrapped in shroud of a star,
opes a garden unto my unweird eyen:
that crow's quill of my shipwrecked dreams,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown,
still catching up with those flies you'd them beaker full
at white's lease e'ery flower upon a barren heath,
oft steals looks from my bed of crimson joy,
weary with toil my day's work expires,
ere in the morning dew her eyes be wet,
while stood at Erin's gate in blue stockings,
hung aloft the ghastly night,
I could see that man-in-the-moon.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Sunday, October 25,2015 11: 24: 24 PM