To Be a Palace
This house carries skies of life,
A pleasant country where it grows
Into a mansion, and then palace
So rich and glorious.
At frequent intervals the growth
Has a spurt, a spurt of energy;
Walking in and rising over
An inhabitant is a combatant.
The somewhat cold gleam
Entered the sticks and stones
Of the walls of the house,
It shivered for all time.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.