Love Knows No Bounds
The setting sun in drowsy numbness
goes to bed but of late,
beside the oak tree among freshly sown seeds,
full ripe gourd of some hazel-nuts in my account;
of clay and wattle-made thistles by the stream,
that predestined star of thy most high deserts,
slowly drifting away from the sand dunes
to e'er melting snow by the sea-ashore:
of woe-begone love to my shipwrecked dreams,
opes a garden unto my unweird eyen, sweet maid.
(C) Naveed Khalid
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Date Created: Date Created: Monday, Auguest 10,2015 1: 09 PM