Crystal blue waves lapped against the shore.
The sun began to set.
Wind gently brushed through the palm trees, rustling the leaves. Tenderly shuffling the birds who rested insides its leafy embrace.
Looking down the beach I could see her standing there.
She was always there. She was always smiling.
Her eyes were closed as her hair gently blew in the wind, face lit by the dying embers of the day’s last breath.
Every moment in time was captured in her simple existence.
Every toil and pang was expressed in her sheltered eyes.
I waded through the mushy sand towards her, thinking of how it would feel to hold her close.
I pictured her turning towards me, opening her eyes, and opening her arms to embrace me.
The sand slugged between my feet.
Every step was erased by the oceans never ending grasp on the beach.
The closer I became the more I saw of her beauty.
Her brown hair seemed to hold an infinite amount of splendor, as if all of creation had taken a rest on her strands of hair.
They say that the journey is better than the destination.
Maybe they are right.
Maybe my image of her would overshadow her actual presence. Could it be that her simple existence was nothing but a shadow compared to my artistic portrait of her?
I was almost there.
The person I had waited my entire life for was a mere walks distance from where I stood.
I was not wrong, I knew that every glorious detail he had longed for was true.
As I stood there staring at my life’s desire, she turned towards me and opened her eyes.
This was it, this was the moment I had dreamt of for so long.
As our eyes met, a lump formed in my throat and tears welled up in my eyes.
She was perfect.
Inside of her eyes I could see everything.
Every single wish I had ever made was inside of those two spheres. They glistened in the orange glow of the setting sun.
Like two pools holding the one soul meant for me.
I have never met him,
But he thinks I am stunning,
He's everything I want,
No one else is in the running.
Skin like a Redmayne,
Darkest eyes I've ever seen,
Just a posh boy who's determined
To crush his parents dreams.
He's the Saint of Temptation,
Talks like he's got a title,
In love with the East,
A master of survival.
He is steeped in history,
And though I do not know why,
His reputation reaches further
Then the late night red sky.
The only problem is,
He's as perfect as can be,
No matter how stunning,
Another girl's with him, not me.
Now, why don't you stop looking,
at all your little imperfections.
with all your differences.
your bigger picture
is more real,
and infinitely more stunning
Every artist knows
that it's the smallest details
that make a picture valuable.
They make up what is you.
And that is beautiful
My sweetheart you are so stunning and seductive
With a lovely attitude, to come and get me please
Your progressive style makes you more reflective
Embrace me come in my warm arms don not tease
Sky is under your feet and you have taken me over
Wind is playfully caressing your cheeks, curly hair
Your eye brows are archer this is what your armor
What a tasteful youth what a wonderful spicy flair
My love,life is at stake my love is now on the altar
Your graces can save me from the clutches of world
My life is like a ship without any rudder and harbor
In front of universal love your beauty is just curled
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
For the first time
I looked into your eyes
I thought it wasn't obvious that
I actually stared.
You would never understand
What I actually saw
Inside of your
It was brown
But it was brown, I'm sure.
After noticing my long stare
"Is there anything wrong in my eyes?"
And I regretted
For I didn't say
That your eyes
A bold abundance of magnificent color burst as the sun makes its way into the pail atmosphere. As I sit and watch the stunning work of art appear, I hear the wild turkey scuttle through the dry reeds. It is morning, and the animals of the forest are awakening. Looking up at the trees, I notice a great many birds soar up towards the endless ocean-blue sky. A buck and doe silently wonder through the thicket. I decide to walk back toward the house when I glance at a small gray-eared rabbit dash out of sight in to the brush. This is my backyard. My quiet, thinking place. This is where I go when all the troubles in my life are too many; or if homework is unbearable. Other times I go just because I enjoy the peace and quiet. When I walk outside each morning, I can choose to lie on the grass, or swing on an abandoned rope swing hanging from the tallest tree. As I plop myself down to unwind on the cold ground, I think of what a beautiful place this is. This is my quiet place. My own little world of nature.
every time he look at me
or looked me in the eye
i felt my insecurities screaming
i wanted him to look away
but then again i did not .
i felt him looking at my nose,
oh its painful for me to even right that .
but the thing is every day he would tell me that i looked stunning that day .
he told me i was beautiful every day .
he told me that i was perfect .
for once in my life it felt as if all my insecurities went away
but no matter how many times he will call me beautiful, gorgeous, stunning and perfect ,
my insecurities will forever stay
and no matter how many people call me pretty or beautiful ,
damn how i will remember all of them that called me ugly and pointed out my insecurities as well .
All eyes were witness,
To supernatural ball,
. . . Light embracing her.