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 Nov 2016
Just Rachel
Holds it tightly
Loves it really
Loud guitar......,it is quit silly
Swiftly paces,while humming  
Song
With that **** guitar how can he go wrong?
A puzzle unsolved  
Why the desire
Insanity It leads me
If volume go higher
It's like a addiction,
I kid you not
To remain by his side
Curse is the day I bought
Oh silly red guitar
Why so attached is he
Never will I know
It shall stay a mystery....
So this is a silly poem about my son
and his The Wiggles guitar....he constantly
playing it,basically he's stimming ( a way
to manage certain emotions )
For the most part it goes in one ear
out the other,so it really doesnt
bother me...others ?..well yes...that in
turn makes it harder ....and a problem.
Your hidden treasure when comes in light
A garden of Eden with flowers come in sight
Some of the flowers bloom in day some in night
Whatever crops up becomes source of delight

Let me put my hand on  glowing  warm chest
Please appraise me of your emotions to abreast
Please do not play with me don't take my test
From tip to toe and pore to pore you are best

You are an evergreen flower in garden of beauty
There is no one else who may be more pretty
Do not waste type in pity things feel just more free
I am in you and you are in me let us see let us see

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Spirit of the Lord leads me to love to pledge
In the process my tears like rain take to ridge
Pain is associated with love to take to the ridge
In real trance beauty takes love to make bridge

Lord is the fountain of all love and beauty to see
When drop changes into drop and when in sea
It is not easy just to capture moment of eternity
Let us take key and be associated you and me

Supreme love and beauty is hidden in many veils
Moments of trance take to intoxicate like cocktails
Courage makes no sense and confidence just fails
Real love and worldly love is entangled in love tails

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
A touch, a whisper, a glance ,a move celebrates
Communicates love entirely without a single word
This is how beauty crops up to  light ,celebrates
Itself even without being uttered sound like bird

Her eyes are sweet but twist in eyebrow is sweater
Her cheeks glow in red and invite to be really tested
Her ***** knot carry a universe along with heater
Every part has a message written on and manifested

Let me kiss and caress you my love with my hand
You will have a touch of class with very many meanings
My love has its style and your beauty has its brand
In itself it carries very many autumns and lot of springs

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
 Nov 2016
John F McCullagh
My hands are spotted, marked with age.
I feel the cold more keenly now.
I have seen some good friends pass.
I’ve lost at love but kept my vow.
I’ve seen beloved parents’ dead
and held their bodies in my arms.
I’ve watched as youth and beauty fled
from the mirror before my eyes.
Yet through it all I’ve no regrets,
No thoughts that it’s been wasted time.
Hearts will break but they will mend.
Those hearts that don’t are most unkind.
Those who do have had good teachers
Though never one as good as mine.
When my Father died I received a letter from a former love  who said the reason I had such a good heart for others is because I had had in him such a good teacher. I don't disagree.
With every blink of my eyes,
with every beat of my heart,
with every breath that I take
it is reaffirmed to me
that we shall never be apart.

With every step that we take,
with every mountain that we climb,
with every move that we make
we are blessed to stand the test of time.

By Lady R.F (C) 2016
 Sep 2016
naeuta
in some ways, i wish to forget you.
to let go of how your words hurt so much inside my heart,
how you left me to myself;
                                                 alone.
in other ways, i can’t stop trying to remember
the times we had - the hopes, dreams, thoughts whispered to each other.
the hope of a better place and time, where we could be together, as one.

i cannot forget you.
but i will always hold close the things i choose to remember:
our juvenile, silly promises,
rather than the lost hopes that will always remain inside my heart.
 Aug 2016
Valsa George
As I beheld a flower of rare beauty
In the silence choked heart of wilderness
The facsimile of a pretty woman came alive
From the coagulated heap of images

A woman…….! Isn’t she
God’s supreme handiwork
An animated form of chiseled art
A joy to behold
A figure of curvaceous ups and downs
God’s beautiful calligraphy
Her skin glowing as satin
Hands and fingers of creamy softness
Eyes reflecting love and gentleness
Voice musical and sweet
Moving with measured cadence
And walking with fluid ease
One who smoothens the rough edges of life
But Alas! A treasure rarely valued.

A loving daughter to her parents
An adorable mate to her man
A forgiving mother to all
The fountain spring of new life
The lovely mother to her children!

Though she is branded by many
As frail or fickle, infirm or impish
How empty is a man’s life
Who hasn’t known a woman,
Either as a mother, sister or daughter
Or a lover, companion or wife
This marvel of creation,
This miracle worthy of adulation!
In a world where women are discriminated, I feel proud to be a woman and believe that a woman is the light of her home ! I dedicate this poem to every woman big and small..... and affirm that her sacrifices are never wasted!
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