The Sweet Rose Poem by Naveed Akram

The sweet kiss of a rose was its sight,
The nose drank all of salvation from duty,
And nature arrived at the road we built
From our hands and feet and engineers.
The rose was sweeter than primary school,
The flowers of discussions were upright
Like a pupil of desire, a student of the mire,
Irate and kicking with frivolous loveliness.
The sweet kiss of a primrose arrived late,
So dove after dove happened along the way,
Forgetting all dreams, forgiving all films,
Like the boredom of a summer-like spring,
Or the conjecture of the almighty prophets.
It was a sweeter kiss to instil harmony within,
So the family could approach their hearts
Heated by misery and wealthy concerns.
The concert of health was on in a tune or more,
It made no difference, it made no qualm,
Little by little the parts of the volume were read.
It was the sweetest rose one foretold,
Out of sheer prophecy to behold and foretell.