How can you challenge my sweet fortune
It is predestined but with love of my Lord
It also carries along the warmth of love tune
By merciful savior who is never ever hard
So don't challenge me you are made for me
Our souls have commitment of love thru ages
You are like a golden evergreen beauty of sea
All love books carry our love along in pages
Let my love take your hand in my hand to go
Let me seek warmth of beauty like burning sun
We may have difference of opinion in life though
But in chain of love with beauty we have none
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow
The back of your head is a frontal assault
and word of your varied one-nighters bring
so much indeterminate wounding although
they are a psychedelic journey of mixed emotions.
Yes, walk away and leave a trail of social media
footprints, heavy on the shutter release and all-caps.
But look back and bring to remembrance that in
fact, with each step, you are leaving the lens cap on -
You have created thus a self-guided tour for two and
in that way this parting is way more appealing than
a melodramatic sepiad separation from long ago.
Tomorrow our posts shall be buried beneath the new.
a woman's work is ever ongoing
she cooks, washes and does all hubby's mowing
the list of her daily duties quite long
she's never free from these demanding tasks
her days are as full as the fullest flasks
at no time is the housewife taking spells
every minute rings in requesting bells
few assist they're off singing an easy song
whereas the underpaid maid grinds tough stone
her hands worn down to barest possible bone
women carry tons of bricks a real heavy freight
not for one second will they idle or laze
they're running around in the busiest haze
by week's end they do feel a loading's weight
Tha’s done it again,
You wrote thee bet out,
With thee lucky pen,
Oft to bookies,
To do some collecting,
Your lass suspecting,
She would have a fit,
If she knew thee gambled,,
Rising debts, her mind,
As every penny counts,
Not enough coming in,
By all accounts,
A little win sometimes,
Here and there,
Makes the losing,
Easy to bare,
Though so many times,
That sinking feeling,
when horse has lost,
And left you,
It has been said that life is too short to spend in social trenches.
The No-man's land of daily civil warfare.
We want to be liked, we want to be understood, we want to be edgy without offending.
We want approval of the masses, we want to be desired and chased.
We want the want, the fame, the love, the praise, the opinions and ideas.
The winning side.
We wake up everyday and look out across the social media minefields,
The front line Social Justice Warriors, the Alternative Right guerillas.
The mass armies of the Left and Right.
The Anarchists now sip tea with the Libertarians.
Topic to topic we send our troops to fight over hill over dale!
We try, we pick our battles, we fight on all fronts.
The winning side seems so clear yet the shells never stop.
Dropping alongside, bombs carpet or drone.
We have the thousand yard pseudo thought.
Plant your feet firmly on the ground, we need boots on the air,
We need planes in the sky and ships sending reinforcements.
Modern day field intel from a not so secret spy social network.
Mid level cluster bombs of thought and quick bit pieces of food rations for thought.
Mustard gas conversations that choke the throats of some while others inhale and laugh.
Drone strike incoming, retreat from the view of public, scorched earth policy.
Some wave the white flag out of exhaustion only to go fight another battle on some far away topic.
Neutral ground hard to find, teetering on the edge of a war, always ready to fight.
The cycle repeats and yet those who have learn’ed now pick and choose when to fight.
They sit on the sidelines and wait for the right time to strike, there may not a way to retreat all the way but there is a way to cause the most effective change in the lease of painless ways.
Life is too short to spend in social trenches, it is too short to jump from battle to battle, it is not worth the energy spent fighting the endless armies day in and day out and let life go by because you get lost in the fog of war.
To quote Douglas Adams “I’d rather be happy than right”.
Strong words that should be said more.
to-day our region
was bathed in autumn sunshine
perfect blue skies presided
as a view so divine
the countryside wore
a most fetching gleam
lustre did reflect on
the river's narrow stream
our bush landscape
exhibiting her very best
the gold and azure tones
so beautiful of request
the New England's district
gorgeous of home-yard
she surely sparkled
like a picture postcard