70

“Arcturus” is his other name—
I’d rather call him “Star.”
It’s very mean of Science
To go and interfere!

I slew a worm the other day—
A “Savant” passing by
Murmured “Resurgam”—”Centipede”!
“Oh Lord—how frail are we”!

I pull a flower from the woods—
A monster with a glass
Computes the stamens in a breath—
And has her in a “class”!

Whereas I took the Butterfly
Aforetime in my hat—
He sits ***** in “Cabinets”—
The Clover bells forgot.

What once was “Heaven”
Is “Zenith” now—
Where I proposed to go
When Time’s brief masquerade was done
Is mapped and charted too.

What if the poles should frisk about
And stand upon their heads!
I hope I’m ready for “the worst”—
Whatever prank betides!

Perhaps the “Kingdom of Heaven’s” changed—
I hope the “Children” there Won’t be “new fashioned” when I come—
And laugh at me—and stare—

I hope the Father in the skies
Will lift his little girl—
Old fashioned—naught—everything—
Over the stile of “Pearl.”

1053

It was a quiet way—
He asked if I was his—
I made no answer of the Tongue
But answer of the Eyes—
And then He bore me on
Before this mortal noise
With swiftness, as of Chariots
And distance, as of Wheels.
This World did drop away
As Acres from the feet
Of one that leaneth from Balloon
Upon an Ether street.
The Gulf behind was not,
The Continents were new—
Eternity it was before
Eternity was due.
No Seasons were to us—
It was not Night nor Morn—
But Sunrise stopped upon the place
And fastened it in Dawn.

There is sickness.
Subtle insecurity in the tallest tree.
Pride in roots that try
and wont break
free.
Stabbed propped up
shadows
behind the kindest
smile trying the hardest.
Men leaving nothing
in death but souls.
Cliche communications
speaking in color.
Gray paths never make sense.
Never.
And death is
but not without life.
There is sickness.
Curving straight lines
trying to make
a point.

At the last, tenderly,
From the walls of the powerful, fortress’d house,
From the clasp of the knitted locks—from the keep of the well-closed doors,
Let me be wafted.

Let me glide noiselessly forth;
With the key of softness unlock the locks—with a whisper
Set ope the doors, O soul!

Tenderly! be not impatient!
(Strong is your hold, O mortal flesh!
Strong is your hold, O love!)

I think sometimes love will hurt
not in the sense of a heartbreak
more so in the worrying
the longing
the moments in between the highs and lows

And sometimes you make it worth it
sometimes you don't.
In the dusk underneath the fading light
I find your face in my palms
hurting willingly, loving deeply, in a bliss made specially for me.

A beautiful smile.
A special face.
A special someone,
Like you with grace.
With eyes so blue.
A love so true.
A love so deep.
You're the one, I chose to keep.

tend me like a succulent plant
let me get accustomed to
a place with more than just
an ephimeral hint
of a sunny view.

© fey (18/08/20)

Let Me Praise
Amidst falling snow you have given your hands in mine
What a warmth of love and what a bottle of sweet wine
Let me sip it all just sip by sip to be more loving and fine
Let us be together face to face on one goal on one line
How sweet you are don't debar me to love and to praise
Let me read your poetic sweet figure just phrase by phrase
Let me be insane in my wild enthusiasm ,fervor and gaze
Let me pray for longest nights and wonderful loving days
You and me can create a universe of our own in this state
What a marvellous precious moments and beautiful date
In my reckoning no one can be so sweet,to beat this date
I love you with all sincerity of my heart , soul my soulmate  
Colonel Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright June 2020 Love Remains

If we would love like a rose,
soft petals as if a gentle kiss,
of a fragrance nostalgic of
youthful loves,
and blissfully innocent,
unknowing, of the world's woes,
gracefully poised on a trellis,
as if waiting to be asked
to dance a waltz.