Grandpa Poem by Naveed Khalid

What more real than this world to my sightless view,
Brings forth nothing to my mind but my own shadow;
Unless to prove thee virtuous, if not in false pretense,
I'll make believe such words of surpassing wits thy brow,
Ere you know the hand that writ in laurel wreathe thy myrtle crown,
Of glory that fades away in the west wind's waking hour:
Thus to hang on the wall this sign post, burns at midnight calling,
And each star that grows to eternal bliss, by my love abides,
That beauty's face to my reckoning days be more in the twilight;
The golden compass hath spread her wings to a far-fetched sky,
Spellbound by most things abound in season's breathless rhyme,
Enlightened by the Archangel, thy gilded monument astounds.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date created: Wednesday, June 04,2014 4: 38: 50 PM