Is it happening again
You're right on time
This ache is a calling card and the
Silence that grows with it follows
One side stepping the other in a
Waltz we know too well
Please speak before there's no room left
and we become lousy artwork
on opposing walls
Your pattern is a clouded mirror and
I need to know if there will be something
to celebrate or if my pressed lips will be against the bottle at midnight

She praises my hands which caress her skin
My sweetheart is full of flavor like champagne
Beauty is not a crime and love is just not a sin
My beloved let me embrace you let me to win

My love your taste is full of flavor I understand
We are on the same frequency and on same band
Let me touch you face to face and hand to hand
My sweetheart you are so gorgeous and so grand

Let my love you and never ever to stop my pursuit
Let me take you, love and taste your wonderful fruit
Allow my love, to pay your beauty charming salute
Just tell me for your sake what I have to contribute

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

Feet hanging from the deck
of the bow, sitting shoulder
to shoulder and thigh
to thigh. I can’t help but wonder
in what ways the salt air
is dancing off of the sound
and over our taste buds,
changing the way we read
the Prosecco between us.

I almost didn’t bring this bottle.
The thought of opening the cage—
six half-turns forward,
wrapping my palm around the
wire frame, twisting the bottle,
by the base, off of the cork—
it all seemed like too much.

There are too many ways
to mess it up, and I know that
I don’t have a grip on anything
when I am around you, but
I no longer believe that bottles
should be left
uncorked.

If I sit here with no one near
When the loneliness is my biggest fear
And my cheek is burnt from that shameful tear
I reach for a can of beer

If I don't feel that I can shine
When I sit here looking for a sign
And I can't find anything that will make me feel fine
I reach for a glass of wine

If I want someone to come
When I want to act real dumb
And I want to shut my thoughts up and feel real numb
I reach for a bottle of ***

If I want to cloud up my brain
When I want to stop feeling pain
And I can't see a way to make my feelings drain
I reach for a glass of champagne

If I want to have a ball
When I have no one to call
And I feel that I'm about to fall
I reach for my best friend - alcohol

My sweetheart let me put my champagne on your ice
This fiery act will take us to life to increase love price
Victory is confirmed before opening the cork so nice
My love your enchanting beauty has increased spice

The taste of kiss vibrates violently like flood in blood
You are so innocent so charming and so soft like bud
My sweetheart you are so sweet so flowery like florid
Taking you the most beautiful beauty of world I opted

Come to my open arms embrace me with the fragrance
Being all alone in my room I feel your worthy presence
All beauty of the universe is prejudiced to your cadence
Let me be a true lover to salute my love to your brilliance

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

It's so stupid to feel lonely in a room
full of laughing people, enjoying their company with family.
I myself am with family, but I feel so
secluded, put aside, a thought floating
after a quick glance at the girl who's been quiet
for far too long, who usually
sparks the conversation before others.
Tonight, it is too loud.
Dancing waiters and a conga line,
trays of cheap champagne passed around,
Andrew discussing a promising proposal,
kept me so removed from table 351
and the restaurant itself. I cannot control
anything.
The conversation carries on without me.

Just another birthday passes-
One thats not celebrated

With all the champagne glasses
And her hair is nicely braided

She doesnt go out
Because of the pain

And she will not pout
Because what will she gain

Shes sits at home all alone
From the bottle she will drink

Like a dog fetching its bone
They both dont stop to think.

He was terrible at dancing
It was part of his lackluster charm
He tried so hard to do what he could
I can only hope and pray
That the day does not
Come where I begin to
Feel guilt.

We drank three bottles of champagne
He's a beautiful person
A terribly old soul.

But I cannot wait for him.
His mind is much older
Than mine
For I do not want to speed my own aging.
To grow old this young would be a tragedy
And soon many would write songs and plays and poems about us.
But maybe I would want that.

i hear you

piercing the silent

clinking of champagne

glasses

with the laughter of a

thousand waterfalls

for my benefit.