Demure

I brood on comely thoughts,
With feelings of bungalow;
I sought the demure boy
Living with his house and stone -
A bucolic home, full of mystery.
This hounded this demesne,
Demure friendship with godly work.
I conflate the desultory times
With special times of the year.
I see a boy who had dalliances,
In the very use of the sun and stars.
My ebullience for his shame to prevail
Was astounding and supreme.
I brood on these attractive and comely
Thoughts,
Ones of the reality in this demure boy.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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