On the bank of a rushing brook
I sat for hours watching its course.
Peered into the clear gurgling mass
That cascaded down from a mountainous source

Like a slithering snake, it slinks and slips
It babbles downhill night and day
Rolling and gliding through plains and dales
It winds its way to the wider bay.

Dipping my fingers in its icy chill
How my hand got repelled as from a shock!
In its ripples stirred by the kissing breeze,
I saw trees, clouds and the jutting rock-

All floating in queer, fanciful shapes,
Shuddering, trembling and standing still
And the fishes leaving zigzag trails,
Swishing and swimming in the winding rill.

As I quietly watched her speedy flight
With her ***** rising in mournful heaves,
In my ears fell her whispering soft
Orchestrated by the rustle of quivering leaves

I hardly knew the time speeding by
Nor noticed the birds’ homeward flight
Or the Sun moving to the west end side
And the Sky reddening at his sight

As the brook thus continued her headlong ride
To be mingled finally with the ocean wide
I walked, brooding over man’s relentless stride
To be merged eventually with the Cosmic Guide.

Beauty of ******
Let me kiss your lovely cheeks
I can't resist the beauty of a ******
Let me take but all love streaks
My passion tells you are fortune
What a sweet smile and grace
My heart and soul are enthralled
Time and again I want to embrace
Your beauty makes me hauled
Lets be hand in hand one on one
Face to face to see beauty in dance
Let me love you with my passion
Let me take just chance after chance
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow

Words are the hands of thoughts;
Fingertips flow
Where she clenches her eyes
Sinking teeth
In lower lip
Prison bars to sighs
Anchored to liberty
Looming like a storm
in the distance

Protected by a suit of dreams
And armed with a smile
He came out of nowhere
And went his own way

Seemingly believing nothing
And walking in no-one else's footsteps
He follows no rules without reasons
But he knows right from wrong
And he knows that's what matters

In a world of easy hypocrisy
Where compassion is stifled by fear
And belief is a reason to hate
To hate and destroy other beliefs
He goes his own way

                              By Phil Roberts

a condition
love is
it seems

malady almost a shock
when used to no one
you get her

you are normal
some serious
shortcomings

like not six feet tall
or drop dead  handsome
or rich

a Woody Allen
personality
the angst

a comedic happenstance
glasses out of the
comics

(gotta see if I can see out
of my eyes with
contacts)

and yet
she is there
and smiles

touches your leg,
well mine
see,

I distance myself like I
am not worthy.

When In fact she
takes my hand
and pulls me to

the bed
the end

drifting
I seem to live right there
anymore

the tide washes me clean
then crashes
me on the shore

I seem to ebb
with the moon's
phases

like the sounds
of the animals
bay and call

from the shore
the seagull's caw
every wave

my life my death
and I taste salty
and sweet

see depth
see foam and everything

hazelwood briars brown the forlorn
fallen limbs on the ground the next step watched
for slithery snakes amongst the dappled
sun contrasts and deep shadows
make great
camouflage make great hiding places
makes the mind seek
the mowed lawn manicured
barefoot I spend time like
my ancestors
naked roaming
the deepest wildest places
in nothing but shivers
and teasing the insides my recesses
into seeking out the forbidden
shallow ponds soft silty bottom
the rivers banks
a tall oak on the side of the hills
majesty
the elm on the lee side of that hill hidden from
eyes and so peculiarly begging,
calling me
seducing
swaying in the sunlit portions of all of
the fronds edges the mosses
the mushrooms sprouting
a soft bird shrill
a move is a whistle
the loneliness a thrill
the caution in the breeze
a passing will