Obliging Innocence

How canst thou oblige true essence,
truer in compare to fewer
virtues iridescence truer
than the white in blackest hue,
to fall selflessly in thy lieu,
How canst thy memory remnant
of the days of wholly splendour
harken that so aft an fore,
days of yon, suns of yore,
reminiscence felt no more,
Velvet curtains in the winding
cadence of thy fleeting dreams
whether of the moments passing
or those past in parting seams,
Innocence, virtue no longer
Innocence, a sight unseen
of dust a’dust, yet ash a monger
settles ‘pon thy weary means,
with which thou deign living lies
though ‘pon that living swore undo,
didst thou not in lieu of die
breathe in innocence untrue,
Wert we not as infants are thus
mindful of etiquette most feigned
Art we not as infants are thus
obliging innocence as deigned.

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37 thoughts on “Obliging Innocence

      1. Thank you Lara, or better yet I could have all you guys send in your versions of readings, I mean that is of course if any one is interested.

        Regards,
        Osama Iftikhar

  1. Poems can move people and as I have read many it becomes harder to be moved I find, my bar for satisfaction increases but this just set it higher. I love the use of archaic language and I do not know whether you did that to tie in with innocence but it is great. I found these two lines so true and universal “Innocence, virtue no longer/ Innocence, a sight unseen” – just absolutely incredible. I am so glad I stumbled across this and I look forward to reading more of your work!

      1. Your humility is really humbling – mashallah, may I ask where you got inspiration for this poem? As it is a very interesting poem and very relevant today.

      2. I smelt the thawed embrace of summer one afternoon, and I remembered the last time I had come across that scent, it was almost twelve years ago when I saw the curtains of my room rippling in the warm wind of may, I was perhaps eleven then but I never got to oblige the innocence of that day. I know not whether you found that relevant or interesting, but it means everything to me Miss Hartley.

      3. That sure is beautiful and I imagined light through an open window at that point because often it is the first thing you see in the morning. No I definitely did – very inspiring, Miss or Mr, poetry is purely about the soul. I viewed the poem as a representation of the transition from childhood to young adolescence. I hope you have some new poems, your style is definitely of the romantic era, something I think the world could do more of.

      4. My name is Osama, Osama Iftikhar, and I thank you for the wisdom of your words, I have new poems every monday Miss Hartley and I look forward to having you review them.

        Regards

    1. I am equally gladdened if not more to have you here Miss. Emily. I must thank you for the kind words you have written in my honor. I am pleased to know that you enjoyed reading my work, and you must know on the other hand that you are always welcome here.

      Regards,
      Osama

  2. Not sure if it’s a chill that creeps into my gut, or a hot pang of reality that leaks into my heart, but it’s rare to really experience a poem in the first read. In other word, Wow! This rings so true to an I that once was. And the masterful use of William Blake’s style is impressive.

    I procrastinate when it comes to checking out other writers who check out my blog, but thank you for that, and I’m privileged to have found your work. You’re an inspiration to this young poet.

    1. I must be doing something right for kind strangers to compare me with the likes of William Blake, Shakespeare or Poe, but I fear the clemency of strangers for they pay a compliment I am worthy of in no manner.
      I thank you for such graciousness, and I welcome you as well for I am no stranger to youth as I am a youth myself.

      Regards,
      Osama Iftikhar

      1. I’m so sorry to have obligated a justification, but you see I was only obliging innocence. :). But all puns aside, thank you very much, I am humbled by your appreciation.

        Regards,
        Osama Iftikhar

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