You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Golden’ tag.
Touching my face,
kissing my lips,
opening my eyes wide,
the light of my sun,
the light of my angel,
the star I orbit
every day in space,
the inspiration and the muse of my poetry
who makes me feel epic,
the halo that continues to shine its beautiful golden ring
even in the dark of the day like an eclipse,
the gravity in my life that constantly rises my ocean’s tides,
the beautiful vision of perfection
that is beyond any heaven that I could dream or imagine,
the miracle of life who is so out of this world magical
that they must surely be supernatural.
Rational thoughts are a foreign language,
logical emotions and actions fall by the wayside,
‘I love you’ are the only words that I can manage,
your destiny just like everything about you
is one of a kind.
At sunrise,
at sunset,
I see your beautiful eyes
sparkling like the glow of a planet;
when I wake up,
when I fall asleep,
I stare at you in awe and I never want to stop,
because every inch of me is in sweet synchronicity with you-
from the thoughts in my head,
to the tingle I feel on the soles of my feet.
The touch that I feel on my skin;
the heart that I hold in my hands;
the pulse of the world
as well as that of my life;
the first word from which everything for me begins;
the endless hourglass of infinite grains of sand,
encapsulates you, and is what I see and feel
when I am in the glow of my beautiful angel’s spirit
and her gorgeous angel light.
On a morning walk down the city high-streets,
passed countless people, passed shops,
stores, restaurants of all names,
I am stopped in my tracks instantly when I see
a Golden Gunslinger reading a book
while sitting at the foot of a tree.
I’m not sure how long he had been there,
I’m not sure what he was thinking,
but when I looked at him looking down at his book,
to me, the gunslinger looked
as if he didn’t have a care in the world,
and it seemed as if to the gunslinger
the rest of the world could carry on their way
because he was lost in thought, in state,
and frozen in time, but like a performer at a carnival,
the gunslinger sat with a tin pot
just to the left of his right boot
asking politely of his generous passer-by
for a token of interest, fascination, respect,
and a thought to show that they care.
I sat in-awe of the gunslinger on a bench nearby,
and I even took a picture-
I felt like I was looking back in time,
or as if the gunslinger had been transported to the future,
to our present-
and as I sat looking at him, the sun shone brightly on him,
and made him glow even more golden,
and he looked even more amazing than he did before,
and even the sky above looked even more blue.
I thought long and hard about approaching the gunslinger
and putting some money in his pot,
and I wondered what he would do if I did-
would he lower his book? Draw his gun and take a shot?
The incredible living-statue of the gunslinger
that mesmerised me, painted head to toe in gold,
in himself was a work of art-
he was so brilliant to behold,
because as soon as I saw him I was instantly transported
back in time to my childhood,
and my fantasies of wanting to be a cowboy.
The Golden Gunslinger was like a living photograph
of a time of adventure and a reminder of the heroes
and out-laws that fill the stories of the Wild West
that once was in America that for so many
still holds a special place in their heart;
The Golden Gunslinger reminded me of how care-free
and amzing it is to a child, or someone who acts on and follows
their instinctual passions-
whether you are a man, or a woman, a girl, or a boy.
As time caught up with me,
even though in all the time I was sitting there looking at
the gunslinger he did not move an inch,
I realised that it was time for me to move on.
I decided to approach the gunslinger and give him a coin
from my pocket to repay him for his time,
his inspiration, his generosity, and his golden spirit,
and even as I got closer and closer
he still didn’t look up or look away from his book
and didn’t for a second flinch;
and then, as soon as my £2 coin hit the rest of the coins
in his golden pot and made a sound,
The Golden Gunslinger suddenly came alive
and he looked up at me-
he lifted his left hand to touch the rim of his Stetson,
he looked right into my eyes, and I saw him smile
without him having to move his lips at all,
and he bowed his head slightly,
and it was in that moment that I smiled too
in appreciation, and I too began to shine as the sun shone.
As I stepped back the gunslinger reverted back
to the pose in which I first saw him,
and he immediately went back to his prefered-posture
of reading his book, at-ease against the base of his tree;
while I turned to my right and continued to walk down the high-street-
I didn’t look back, but I knew and I was so glad to have met him,
to have given him my time, and for him to have given his time to me
and to everyone who saw him, because he reminded me
in lots of ways of myself, and he was obviously someone
of great patience and a deep-thinker.
I promised myself to capture this moment that would never come again
in as much detail and with as much meaning as I could,
and I also promised that I would never forget
The Golden Gunslinger.
Walking on the soft ocean-touched sand of an early-morning beach-
the cold, divine, sensation between my toes, on the souls of my feet,
as I look back at the footprints that I have left behind me
in the twilight sand-
the path that I have made that appears to go on beyond reach.
The sun rises with a silent, and yet spectacular,
celebratory fan-fare of colour and ocean wave choruses-
all overlapping and harmonizing with every passing second;
and then I realize that the moon is still in the sky,
still casting its own light on the sea-
and in an instant of magical serenity
that seems to last forever
both the sun and the moon share the same sky,
as if the king of the day came when the queen of the night beckoned.
The two were far apart,
but they appeared connected by a golden strand of cloud between them-
as if the two were sharing an audience together,
however what they were conveying to each-other
not even dreams could imagine.
I was so in-awe of this perfect moment,
I was so lost in thought at its meaning,
and by what Earths role is in the celestial destiny of the galaxy,
that I didn’t notice that ten feet away from me
I was sharing this moment with someone else-
someone who I had never seen before,
but who, for a second, looked away from the majestic sight
that we were both witnessing to look at me
and to smile the most beautiful smile that I had ever seen at me.
We both watched as the sun seemingly appeared to grow in size
and radiance, as if it were about to explode;
we both held our breath as the moon faded before our eyes,
as if it were saying a brief goodbye
as it returned the reign of the sky to the rightful heir to the throne.
My fellow sky-watcher and I again shared a moment between the two of us,
as we looked into each-others eyes, smiled warmly,
after having shared something so beautiful together-
and I could see in their eyes that we two would never forget this moment,
nor each-other, but that we would never see each-other again.
We shared another silent look,
which transcended all words that could have been said,
and then we kept on walking.
As the sun bathed me in its golden breath,
the warm air and the sea-breeze overwhelmed and invigorated me
and got inside of me-
so much so that I had to close my eyes to savour the feeling;
and then I had this instinct, this need, to open my eyes again
to look behind me to see the friend that I just made;
and although she was gone, I still felt as if I could feel their heart beating.
The moment would never come again; and yet it would,
but for a different reason, and at a different time for me-
I know this to be true, just as I know that beautiful, magical, bliss
can be found at the dawn of morning in that which connects
the air to the sea.
A cool breeze on a warm mid-summer evening-
the air is golden, the sky is blue,
and the birds continue to sing.
The world is still, or so it would seem-
there is a sweet smell in the air,
as the day comes to an end with sparkling sunlight on glass,
as the windowpane’s continue to gleam.
Is there no more perfect day than today?
Is there no more perfect moment than right now?
Because at this moment I feel at peace,
energized, in my element-
as I wipe the sweat from my brow.
The time seems to last forever, the moment feels timeless-
right now, on this gorgeous June evening,
I don’t think anything can surpass this.
I am content, I am in heaven-
it is nearly nine o’clock at night,
but it feels as if it were not yet seven!
I imagine that everyone else is sharing this with me,
that the entire world feels this joy-
I imagine that everyone has joined together at this moment
to create something that no one can ever destroy.
This evening is perfection-
I am filled with hope and love,
as I see in a neigbouring garden that their poppies are in bloom-
what moment could be better than this beautiful evening,
on this flaming june!
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 