Hummingbird By The Window Sill Poem by Naveed Khalid

Why wouldest I pluck at thy heart strings
of e'ery throbbing beat such quirks of the mind,
played upon a barbed wire
in solemn or strain this dull rhyme,
of broken mast-shaft at north;
her stumbled feet to my shipwrecked dreams,
small minions from out of nowhere arise, arise,
pricked with a furr coat upon the sand dunes
in silent hours of soliloquy
those pearls that never come out to the surface,
her enchanting slogans of disparity, maestro sing!
beside the oak some dry leaves of book in autumn,
away from high heavens by the western isle,
above the mundane, half-way between the carpet upon,
oft on clover-tops but hangs a golden bough,
not least be worthy of thy perusal thy most high deserts
at midnight lease a soring thumb impression,
our little john, of plaintive looks in full bright summer,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown in the late evening:
see! how else I so fairly lost sight of thee, sweet maid,
that in melodious accents I, I am still musing o'er the dale,
hung aloft the ghastly night in my bed of crimson joy.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Friday, March 11,2016 9: 12: 46 PM
Friday, March 11,2016 9: 24: 35 PM