Snowfall Poem by Naveed Khalid

Then, that you see not, too, can fill the page
of eyes so blind, my love, to illumine more bright
than by what I write of ages that are dead,
that this world with what I least contend,
hath so many lovely things unto the public eye,
oft unaccounted for thy most high deserts;
not least in precise measure to arise by thee alone,
the day of our happy morn, bereft of so pure a sight,
grows and withers e'ery passing minute in waste of time,
ere you know the hand that writ in mournful numbers,
e'ery fair from thy fairest brow in solemn strain this barren rhyme.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Sunday, October 12,2014 7: 16: 50 PM