in the middle of the dark dreary night, i sigh and remembered our fondness flight. you were my sun who brought light into my cold and lifeless night. and i was your moon seeing that no matter what i do my life will always revolve around you.

you were my light who tauten up the day and make the bad go away. you showed me your gleam in my gloomy hour and soothed my soul. you shone too bright consequently my skin reddened and blistered. the pain came out on what was just proposed to be good. in spite of that, the wounds eventually healed and you continued to light my way in this world.

as the time passed by you continued painting the starry night sky into a bright blue sky. you died every night just to let me breathe and live the night. i know it makes no sense but the two of us were lost in the past. reminiscing our wounds,  the agony grew bigger and deeper. as we revolved around our range, we were alone in our voyage.

you were my sun that showered the hills with orange, yellow light and waking everything up and i was your moon who couldn't never reached your light for it was fiery illuminated. your light had gotten dimmer in my eyes up until the raging fire that i had once felt for you— shrunk and diminished.

in the middle of the dark dreary night, i looked back on our enchantment. it was a fate when we met but our time were hard to catch and our days never match. as i was the moon dancing with the stars glowingly and luminously, our lips met softly. just like an eclipse, our love created darkness. while hours felt like minutes, it was enough. whilst it was just a short period of time, it was all worthwhile. you were my sun and i was your moon and we were never supposed to collide, but now we coexist as one. and when the time was gone, we drifted apart. tell me, how am i ever supposed to forget the one that illuminates me?

Maiden, maiden, maiden, a depilidate mobious minaret –
Holical, Eris begs an atlatl defection, the
Genuis-from-Mars technique – an erathicus lecanopteris.
Suffretex, past-perfection in pastel gloxinia,
Glowingly acidic and shiftingly glossidic, it’s cosmaltry mariala;
Ungual outmoded, holonym singing Aquilar rapax as demiurge.
Demos and Phobos weep, coruscating terrathos, killing riva.

Swell quickly, optic ophidia, lest the ira florena rise –
Rise, maiden, rise optic ophidia, ignore Irredelphine!
Strut the hematacolpa and pace-willow, but fail flow:
Deciduous telechir beckons, demanding autobogotic-hajra.
****-venom and picea hovea, eche verri naught echo –
Beta-decay and COBOL error, fandango with teeth
And sing praise for Eucladanic soignè solaris

Sprint quick, maiden-solidago gesparisè, to Misra pourum!
Majerns and hapax, death-knell aloud and encelia,
Enfloranè, haste! Enatic haste tichodrome, flee, anise!
Apios, harken: tryst-sans-thermobic sweeping of thresher-thrown,
Little-low else yet achroma, de-jubilance:
Fall fairly, ayah! So to be so, blanking systemic,
A thousand steps for one death.

f this.
and that.
f the soul-******* siphons.
f the **** ******* on all the things.
f the wretched that ravages souls.
f plundering the vast unknown. f the broken that breaks us apart. f the pain that can’t find the exit door. f the non sequiturs that never stop. f all the thinks I'll never get to know. f the desert that evaporates technicolor dreams. f the reams of unsung ink.

f getting up too early. f never enough sleep.
f having no focus because mind is always trying to escape.
f the architects of this unending industrialized violent puppet reality TV.

f not having patience for utmost important because basic survival in this free range slave menagerie is just too overwhelming and chips away daily at already threadbare sanity.

f the aches under these ribs always begging for more.
f the abyss that eats cravings caved in for breakfast.

f the knowing that knows how awesomely amazingly brilliant loving flipping mind-glowingly ecstatic and jovial like a MF this existence could be.

it haunts me:

iridescent reflective ascendant peacocked wings
fluttering phoenixflies burst from ill-fit cocoons
surfing air so ******* fresh
even the Lorax ain’t got **** to say - he’s dancing
with kombucha in one hand and a DMT pipe in the other
at the festival called, I dunno, Just Because it’s ******* Monday

and we could
love and make and dream and play
all day every day every year every life...

and I look over
at this giddy ******
epic little boy version of me
and I think:
****

I have to keep trying
keep believing in the things
because the thought of leaving him
in this world, as-is
without me

is the hardest thing
I’ve ever had to think

capitulation is on the English sides mind
their brand of cricket has been of an awful kind
this ashes series our Australian side blew them away
as they had a very stylish form of play

the bowling and batting of the Australian team
has wrecked the English lads winning dream
our lads didn't put a foot wrong on the wicket  
they were a class act at playing the game of cricket

the last match in the series is on to-day
and the Australians will most certainly be making hay
at this stage they've got the English struggling
they've not got enough fire power in their batting

after the lunch break we'll have the English all out
they'll be wearing the odd ****** pout
they've not prepared well in any facet of the game
which has been a terrible shame

the annuls of cricket shall record England's loss
and speak glowingly of the Australian teams gloss
the 2013-2014 ashes series a series of capitulation
where the English didn't play well against our nation

I miss you more in the colder months.
It's a pity. As you too,
do glowingly embrace my skin like the fair breeze at noon.
Do faintly stir my heart like fallen leaves bristling,
dancing through my fingertips.

Not a shiver, but a shining splendor did send her
With a quiver of arrows, and to my marrow.
But the cold left my bones bare.

It all brings me back there, the water smooth and still.
Illuminated in intricate
Ecstatic explosions.

You were My shimmering sea beneath a starlit sky,
A Mariner's maiden, a new year warm with wine.

In the spring you said Goodbye.
In winter, still not have I.
In the colder months I just,
need you by my side.

Not just for warmth at eventide
but too that loneliness abide
like the sand's surrender
to the ocean's tide.

make yourself glowingly present
and bow down to
higher consciousness

feel the bewildering
burning
yearning
churning sensation of
your third eye
struggling for
freedom of sight
with all of its might
it should be easier
it will soon come
naturally
if you just
follow my lead

greed is futile
let all your tangibles free
feel the sweet relief of the weight
off your shoulders
you owe yourself
that sigh of completion

the freedom of
hedonism within reason
commence the ******* of the
purest sensation of truth
you have it in you
just wake up

the apple of your eye
is ripe and ****
your vibrant brain is
a ravishing work of art
frolicking down
mysterious spiral staircases
through moments of
intensely intellectual
visionary illumination
and bioluminescence

the essence of joy
intertwined with pain
juxtaposed with
sublimity in vain

wander yonder
into the somber beyond
no magic wand
nor wizard tongue
transfigure and transcend
ascend into
the winding bend of forever

shudder with delight as
shimmering reality breaks through
with vivacious sound
color and light

conscious convergences
delicate reserves of infinite truth
the youth is not wasted
by the young
breathe deeper
your life has only begun

arrival and departure
candle lit picnics in
graveyards of forgotten dreams
the cobwebs are ephemeral
and easily defeated

repeated incomplete ideas
eventually materialize into
concrete visions
the prison gates
were never secure
the allure to venture abroad
was never ruled out
tumble forth and
discover
uncover
recover

nourishment in its purest form
reach as high as your vision spans
wanderlust for the
bright side of the moon
the stark luster of
the multifaceted sunset

tender are the
wilting worries of yesterday
the glimmering welcomes
of desire lines
halcyon days precede
wondrous adventures
transcending darkness
lanterns are unneeded
the neurons are aglow

promises of
playful rendezvous with
all species
all personalities
commonalities made apparent immediately

your mind wastes no time
reality proves
the clock is irrelevant regardless

keep your guard down
you'll be delighted to find
that you're already home
you're already found

if you miss me, close your eyes you'll see
me smiling at you knowing it's you I need
always be around, whether you are feeling up or down
to you I'm forever bound, queen to my world
you own the crown, enchanted I'm spellbound
whipped our love profound
with me
you'll never shed a tear or frown
glad you I found
my love circular you it surrounds
carrying you to a higher plain beyond the clouds
like EM we space bound, soaring on wings of love
Osbourne
elated we soar, if you need me
knock on my door
text, call,
dm on socials, be there in an instant
so that you don't miss me for a second
when you call nothings more important
we courted today forever together you worth it
we deserve it, we'll go the distance in the
clouds by angels its written
nothing we are lacking
fun fact is we meant to be
our love reminiscent
of energy, that powers the sun its glowingly
lighting up our lives as each other we breathe
lovingly it's the oxygen we need together
we ascend it how we feel
feels with you the perfect hand i was dealt

How sweet it is to deep into the night
   Let percolate your dreams in dripping beads
Of glowingly inebriate delight
   Distilled from gurgling rills of amber meads,
And then in threads of starlight finely spun—  
   All witched by frozen moonlight, pitched in black—
Suspend your limbs (made heavy by the run
   Of daily cares), and lay relaxed and slack
Till, saturate with drowsiness, and high
   Within a space of jewels and gems and jet,
You fall into the black hole's empty eye,
   And all the world and all yourself forget.
How sweet it is to all your life forsake,
Forgetting you had ever been awake.

O.O

She has written love on sand to be taken away by tide
I love her innocence as she does not know its meaning
Her foolishness is considered stupidity just far and wide
Love is like a wave of water broken like a broken string

Beauty in her innocence considers love just a play a game
Which is to be played and then to be left to another occasion
Lover has to bear the brunt and and to borrow a bad name
But in hear of his heart he glowingly celebrates his fortune

My young sweetheart your beauty has not yet met a setback
So you have to have extra care and caution in this pursuit
If you lose your sight you will not be back on this love track
Take your time till you become wiser till matures your fruit

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

May Christ transform your Love and Life into something beautiful.,
May Christ use your Lives to reveal His Hope to this lost world here.
May His blessings be use as a even Greater blessings to other people.
May His Light shine Glowingly through you revealing Him in you.
May the Sunrise and Sunset beauty be dull in comparison  your life.
May many come to know Him the True God and Savior Jesus Christ.
May we all whom see the truth and been blessed by Him the Christ.
Reveal our thankfulness, to Him whom spoke our lives into existence.
For without Him there would be no purpose to live because only He can save us.

Plan on online purchase?
Well, just click on the reviews.
It helps to hear what people say –
What have you got to lose?

Your mind, perhaps, for you’ll find out
Opinions vary widely,
From those described most glowingly
To others penned most snidely.

The bar graph gives percentages
Of how the ratings fare
So follow the conclusions
Or reject them, if you dare.

For everyone’s impressions
Will be different and distinct
And those who thus ignore them
Will be very soon extinct.

Autumn and the sun
has already begun
It's slow descend
Yet here I am
amidst the flickering
Light and shade
lmagining
How you glowingly ascend.

It's not even funny
Though I'd like to laugh
At such a bright sunshining irony
Which glows like orange leaves at noon
And stays like casting skys of over
Until the day is at an end
I'll know and laugh overly
Almost glowingly
With you

Is It Fair?
© Bill MacDonald 3/5/2020

Is it fair to expect his wife to act in a mothering way,
Even when you don’t want her to replace your mother?

Is it fair to expect her to show some concern like Mum would,
When you don’t want her to be a usurper of the affections Mum gave?

Is it fair to expect his wife to connect with our shared knowledge and love
When she’s only known us in fits and spurts, a little at a time?

Is it fair to expect that she’ll want to know us like she wants to know him,
When he’s the one she’s marrying, and we’re all grown up?

Is it fair for her to expect that we’ll all stay away,
When we’re used to seeing him whenever we want, because he’s our Dad?

Is it fair for her to say that we aren’t sincere,
Even though we’re trying to know her and accept her as she’s asked?

Is it fair for her to speak glowingly of her side of the family but not his,
And to be surprised when we feel slighted by that?

Since when is life fair? Since when is life perfect?
Since when do human relationships work without pain or conflict?

Is it fair that we expect one another to act according to our standards,
But we fail to live up to those very standards ourselves?

Is it fair?

Image Actualization
Agenda of projection
Acts of deviation
Covered with manipulation

Your lifestyle mocked
Dressing sense joked
Expenses told
Hiding in the name of truth

Honesty questioned
Integrity doubted
Ridiculed repeatedly
Image built for covering their personality

Image of honesty
Hidden under rudeness
I speak only the truth
Remember only wherever it suits

Image Actualization
Agenda of projection
Acts of deviation
Covered with manipulation

Lectures on honesty
All flowing freely
Spoken of self glowingly
Total lack of modesty

Witness to acts
Sabotaging the facts
Silent when time to react
Make up on continuing to act

Such a clown
Will spiral down
Not aware of his fall
Image Actualization his downfall

Analogous to fire breathing
puffed up imaginary dragon
(in a land called Honah Lee)
ye might rightly think
what the deuce
haunting spectre ace of spades
good fella aiming to be a poet all about,
meaning sexagenarian wordsmith,
this once upon a time jackanapes
presently decked out like cadaverous card

still sporting fine kingly raiment
and crown of thorns atop noggin
impossible mission
to disguise rapscallion mien,
nevertheless mine true harmless colors
glowingly dim meant shunned
buzzfeeding demonic, horrific
malefic tightly coiled asp
symbiotically fostering mein kampf
thru poisonous white fangs,

I strive and stride rite
to live life like good humor man,
until grim reaper
rocked my boat whose death on par
for an impractical joker,
after rigor mortis seized body electric,
hence burial at sea where mates
honored wish of mine on the briny deep
shipped overboard in a casket wrought of oak,
where (yes) grateful dead foo fighter

hoisted into Davy Jones' locker
after one last exhilarating heavenly ****
from potent Cannabis
and draught of stout ale
finally freed me from ills
of a morose lactose intolerant
impotent existence that did yoke
body and mind and set spirit soaring
like aircraft christened
Saint Louis mine being
riddled with angst.

When alive with the sound of music
and robust health
smitten with searing infatuation
to sow seeds of life and white lily
during jump/kick starting manhood,  
when hormonal secretions
found me being
naughty bit player for prime time
innocent untainted puppy love
concerning fecund (she),
the unbeknownst petty heartbreaker
with whom I fancied
and fantasized to pledge my troth
which hand of distressed damsel
never tested to fit mine like a glove,
nor sanctified debauched soul asylum demise
and death be not proud courtesy
Spiritus Mundi above.

Now gnarled arthritic fingers
and bowed back
these lovely bones severely jangled,
when cough that doth wrack
accompanied by thick choking phlegm
gagging yours truly
while lying supine on me deathbed
disrupted with torturous hack
panting like an overworked dog
even after the leash goes slack.

Every end of year
when auld lang syne sung
weather beaten formerly
well muscled skiff wrung
after being subjected
to whims of mother nature
cannibalistic headhunters
interestingly enough poked and prodded
buzzfeeeding me rawbits
eroded taste buds populating tongue

recorded global cuisine
avast webbed wide world
across all four directions of compass
found globetrotter huzzaing
experiencing evanescent,
concupiscent and acquiescent
aborigines far flung,
where couple females in particular
among the madding crowd
of barenaked ladies struck my fancy

amusing themselves with innocent
coy non verbal repartee,
where one in particular approached
with outstretched legions
of extensive alms,
where colorful amulets sported
to stave off superstitious
shrunken skull and crossbones
dangled and clung.