Prosaic Poem by Naveed Khalid

Poetry is nothing but to abandon the malpractice
Of brooding evil that corrupts the mind;
And soon as I depart from where he left us in dismay,
Against the mirror of thine eye, marked by soring thumb impressions,
Alas, but to fill the page in fake reflections by e'ery falling star,
The hand that writ in laurel wreath thy myrtle crown!
Oh, lord! thus my journey here should have ending,
That I have not enough wits to prove this world of empty vessels;
My bride's love of expression prowess in marigold autumn,
Oft dribbles down her chin in meaningless embarkation,
Celebrate! the confetti of her dream through e'eryday happenings.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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