Intuition Poem by Naveed Khalid

Oft that by love of old formed memory
has but beauty's look so fair,
that to my sightless view brings forth
nothing more than what I write,
of eyes so blind in darksome dungeon,
a desert rose, by the world of drifting dreams amiss;
I'll make some procession awake to thy call,
and by nights and days in worn-out time,
her light be spent in pure heaven:
thus, whether I see the picture or not,
what it matters, and who'll see
the mirror that is still in need of an eye.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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*Republished
Date Created on: Sunday, January 05,2014 3: 19: 18 PM