A Hornet Pie Poem by Naveed Khalid

Needest not I in much too wreckage
of a nerve,
a blood-dimmed tide of veneral amores
runs in deep sorrows,
the sea, the sea in silent hours
of soliloquy, filled with
richly coloured silver gray angels,
beside the oak on eagle wings, a drab note
of quick sand against the world;
that fair youth in whose tress of golden hair,
the setting sun at my door, needs no love
of rustic feet her dance upon the floor,
entombed within e'ery flower upon
a barren heath, break lose their oars to thee,
in white arrayed ribbons her princely steps
from another shore arise small minions
of soring thumb impressions; the first frost
her falling snow at clover-beach,
still be of subverted looks the day's old care,
ere the pen hath writ in mournful numbers,
so swayed by some dry leaves in autumn
of thy book, a star-y velorum!
of fell hand the clock tells no time,
like upon the rock a steed of heaven's grace
by the sweat of thy brow,
the spurious reasoner's mind under the bolted sky:
stood aghast, ah, but to beweap my outcast state
forlorn; of way too far at midnight lease
my shipwrecked dreams; away from the banks
of silken satin, plays a hunch for the parade,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown in rosemary garden.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C) 2017.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Monday May 22,2017 5: 05 PM
Re-written on Saturday May 27,2017 5: 42 PM

Title Revised: From A Green-eyed Monster To A Hornet Pie

Supernova!