A River Nile Poem by Naveed Khalid

Ah, westward bent, of doomed youth, a rose,
under heaven's high bower,
mere scattered flowers of so bleak a horizon
in deep azure, early buds of may
grow and wither in time's waste upon a barren heath,
of deserted looks to my mind still this world of veneral amores
runs in deep sorrows, no heart can afford
from off thy ancient lyre her night-long love,
of e'ery skipped beat down the lane
in amberwoods; some dry leaves outspread in autumn
of thy book beside the oak, unabashed lies dead
upon the sand dunes, so fairly lost scope of days that are gone;
ere my feathered pen hath writ in mournful numbers
thrice with holy dread, small minions
of soring thumb impressions that arise
from out of the blues in dismal shades of silver angels,
the mockery of my foes, of first frost her falling snow
in my bed of crimson joy at clover-beach;
still to my decaying form abides in solemn or strain
this dull rhyme of fair weather spring in the mellowing year,
that darkened earth's infernal grove
against the setting sun at my door, the sea, the sea
of unnerved blood in vein, opes a garden unto erin's gate
by the suburbs of shabby island; while but a child
of two days old in the manger as I follow
the evening star-y velorum:
of cowslip his parted hair in half-measured distance
from afar, stretched across a golden bough on top
of the tree, they took me o'er, me not myself to claim
on camel's back, the watcher of the skies;
pebbles and stones in the ocean sink
this fedora of yore drifting dream amiss,
away from high heavens the eagle on wings, on wings,
goes soaring high above the dale in silent hours
of soliloquy, I still hold dear unto my shipwrecked dreams,
a bout of sea-sickness at midnight lease thy iron car
at Matilda's farm tolls the bell in the backyard of rosemary garden.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Monday, July 17,2017.6: 14 PM

* Title Revised from A Creek by the Western Isle To A River Nile To A Sunset by the Western Isle