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When the morning light hit my face,
and I slowly began to open my eyes;
when I got out of bed,
and I looked in the mirror,
I immediately flashed back to the night before,
and the face I saw and the memory of the look in my eye
that I cannot erase-
the one that said, and always says to me: embrace life,
and let the constant adventure that you are on
take you far and take you high.

At the end of the day,
when the sun has set and it is officially night,
people change like the colour of the sky changes
from blue to black-
the choices you make, the things you do,
what you intake, what you say and listen to,
are different than at any other time of the day,
and people can act like a completely different person
when they can let their hair down,
and drop their guard,
and let their intoxicated instincts guide them
to varying expressions of their own colourful inner-light.

Some people don’t remember hardly anything
after a long night that turns into a morning of crawling;
some people can drink a lot and remember everything;
some people when they drink cannot stop talking;
some people when they are inebriated dance, laugh,
take off their clothes,
sometimes they wrap their arms around everyone,
and when they hear a great song being played
they let their voice be heard loud
and they sing like The King.

A night on the town;
an experience of visiting and going
to many different venues, places, clubs, and bars;
a night of laughs, music,
and pictures of friends enjoying themselves
and acting like clowns,
are great to remember and remind yourself of,
as long as at the end of the night
you don’t end up somewhere where you didn’t really want to be-
like in the back of a police car.

All good things must come to an end,
and so must a long, but great, and fun night;
flashes of what happened and what was said
rise to the surface of your consciousness
and can fill you with both regret and relief;
every night is short, every night is different, every night is brief-
however, every night counts,
and as the sun rises and the dark becomes the light and bright,
just remember that somewhere, at all times of the day on Earth,
and constantly in space, we, like the world we live on,
are constantly turning, spinning, and existing,
in a perpetual night.

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There you are.
You are the one I have been looking for.
I have traveled far and wide,
I have seen the world, and I have cried.
The universe has been waiting for us to find each other;
the tree of destiny has been waiting for the seed of us
to grow and connect us and bind us together.

On a clear night, I look to the stars and at the moon,
and I see you;
during the day, I think about you and I follow you,
I look at pictures of you,
and I bathe in the light of you.

On a windy day, I watch the trees sway;
on a sunny afternoon, I sometimes look up at the blue sky
and I see the moon;
on a trip somewhere, I travel miles without even knowing it,
because all I hear is your song play;
on a summer’s day in June, there is no one else
who I want to see or talk to than you.

Even in a dark garden, under the white light of the moon
glowing like a pearl and shining like it is alive
and full of expression, you would be and you are
a twilight flower who blossoms and touches the life of another,
and the source and the inspiration of their obsession;
even in a bright sunlit garden, surrounded by colour
and other flowers of every description,
you would stand out from all of them,
as if you were a flower on fire,
and even the bees would come to you first
to get what they need,
and after they have they would be addicted to your pollen.

I will never forget what I saw,
and I will never forget what I felt,
in that first instant after I first saw you;
I will never see you any other way
than how you have always been
and how you always will be,
because your infinite perfect beauty
is you and only you;
I will never forget everything you said to me
and everything you say to me,
because they are the drug and the effect
from which I live to feel always,
and never want to become immune;
I will never forget the rocket ride
that I take every time I look at you,
because, to me, it is like an epic journey to the moon.

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For some the weekend has already started;
for some the time to let their hair down,
to go out and enjoy themselves
while having fun in the sun
has already begun,
and will continue for all the hours
that the sun shines,
until the stars come out at night;
for some this is the time to go out and party;
for some, they have have been waiting for this time,
these days, since the last weekend ended,
and they are constantly waiting
for the arrival of Friday night-
which might consist of going out with friends,
an evening in front of the TV,
going to see a good film at the cinema,
or perhaps sitting in a beautiful garden
under the stars while marveling at the moonlight.

Saturday is a day when things happen;
Saturday is a day when people meet up, talk, and catch up;
Saturday is a day when you can put worries on-hold
and make wishes a reality;
Saturday is a day when you can let everything spin,
like the rings of Saturn;
Saturday is a day when things go on
that you don’t read about every day in a book;
Saturday is a day for making the most of the things
and the people who define life, passion, and true beauty.

Saturday is the day for a walk in the park;
Saturday is the day for doing your favourite things;
Saturday is the day for going for a long drive
in the countryside in your car;
Saturday is the day for concerts, music,
family, dancing, singing, and weddings,

The world doesn’t just stop at the weekend-
just because it’s a Saturday,
that doesn’t mean that everyone is off work all day long;
people still have a job to do,
airplanes still take off
and people are still jetting off
to all corners of the planet
in hopes of finding something
and leaving other things behind;
people still do good things,
and things still occasionally go wrong-
but that is ok, that is how it is supposed to be,
that is the life of yours and mine.

Go out and run in the sun;
go for a swim in a swimming pool,
or in the warm water of an ocean;
go and see something inspiring,
heart-racing, stunning, and fun;
go out of your way and do something for someone.
Go out of your front door
and see and hear and do what you want to do your way;
go on, and whatever you do
make sure you have a great day
and the best Saturday.

Dancing in the dark around the light,
on a hot Summer night,
creating a beautiful spectacle
as they dart around so fast,
a constellation of lightning bugs fly and glow
and make children and adults feel awestruck and alive
as they watch the magical light show.

I have always been fascinated by miracles of life
that have the gift to be able to generate their own natural light,
I have always thought of myself as a firefly or a lightning bug
attracted by and also unknowingly generating my own trail
for others to follow, like the electric breadcrumbs
of streetlights at midnight.

I often feel like a big kid,
because as I have got older
I have refused to give up on seeing the world
and marveling at the new, the phenomenal,
and the exciting, and I plan to continue
to see the good before I see the bad;
I will never take for granted what I have,
and I will try not to pine
for that which I didn’t need in the first place,
and never want for which I never had.

Even in the darkness,
at all hours of the day,
even at night under a full-moon,
life of every kind is awake
and showing the colours of its plume.
I have always thought that at magic hour of sunset
the world is in the throws of a transition
and change that can be seen as well as a felt-
I believe that certain animals and people
have a sense of this, and an instinct for it,
and that is what makes me think that all the stories
and myths about the supernatural
have more truth to them than we know fully,
and that it is no coincidence that so many stories
and tales take place around twilight.

I have always wanted to see
and I have always wanted to hold
an integral piece of nature’s magical puzzle in my hands,
and on more than one occasion I have held the precious delicacy
of a short-lived but exhilarating teacher of life
who has shown me, and who has tried to teach me,
that every fleeting moment is important-
as is the time you spend talking to and with family and friends.

Anything that you can share,
anything that you feel,
anything that you can hold and embrace tightly
can feel as great and as energizing as the light of the sun,
and as comforting as a hug.
The wonder of all life and infinite possibilities
can be seen and felt if you are lucky enough to see,
and if you are fortunate to be able to chase, catch, and hold,
a emanating and glowing lightning bug.

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Early in the morning,
as the stars shine at night,
love makes my heart sing,
music fills my life;
when I wake up and the rain is pouring,
as I drift off to sleep,
a song, a voice, a melody,
takes me to my dreams and set alight
my deep thoughts like a fire.
My dreams are epic,
my dreams are sometimes dark-
but they are more often than not
overwhelmingly insightful and bright.
My dreams have things in them that have significance
and hidden meaning-
whether it is the sight of a typewriter,
or the echo of a clocks tick,
or the sight of someone taking a photograph of me
as I am taking a picture of them-
it always amazes me what my own subconscious conjures up
during the day in the heat of the sun,
or at night when the moon is reflecting light back at the Earth
and at all of us and influencing our thoughts and fortunes.

We all go to bed with thoughts, feelings,
and inflections of the day before that is slowly drifting away,
and its events will soon have gone by and be no more
than a shadow, when all is said and done;
we all wake up the next day feeling different,
but with certain splinters in our mind
still playing on our thoughts
that we can’t rid ourselves of or shake easily-
some of us get up and try to start their day
and free ourselves of any lingering worries or concerns
with a daily morning run,
some of us sit up in bed and listen to music,
watch TV, read a book, write poetry,
someone of us take hold of our favourite instrument
and play to our hearts content,
some of us just sit and cry on our own,
just so we can vent.

Talking is important;
connections are essential;
letting out and letting go
can be like the cool water from a font;
remembering the people you love,
and where you want to be,
because they are to you the most wonderful and the most special,
needs to be, must be, will always be-
and that is why you must run, walk, look, see,
the magic all around in the daylight;
that is why you must run into the ocean of the unknown;
that is why you need to touch and feel a part of the light;
that is why you must be fearless, bold, and brave,
and let the world and everything in it fill your life.

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Night is when I come alive.
Night is when I am free.
Night is when I feel my drive.
Night is when I am me.
Night is when the universe can truly be seen.
Night is when the sonnet of the stars can be read.
Night is when I go to the places I have never been.
Night is when I live the dream others imagine
as they lie asleep in their bed.
Night is when the heavens look there most beautiful.
Night is when the call of the wild can be heard.
Night is when people change into something
that connects them with that
which goes beyond the physical.
Night is when no one needs to utter a word.
Night is when you see, hear, and feel things
that take your breath away.
Night is when sound reigns supreme.
Night is when you look back and remember
all of the things that happened to you that day.
Night is when you reflect on the way things are,
the way things were, and the way things could have been.
Night is when the best stories are born.
Night is when we all cloak ourselves in the wonder of the dark.
Night is when the world catches it’s breath
before the awe of the new days dawn.
Night is when fire returns to being
the seed of its first spark.
Night is when we find peace.
Night is when we gain a new sight.
Night is when every dog is let off the leash.
Night is when we become the embodiment of the night.

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You are my butterfly,
I have been waiting for you my entire life;
you are who I want to be with until the day I die,
I want to be with you forever and one day call you my wife;
your happiness is all that matters,
I promise to give you all that I have;
your heart’s desire are the same as mine,
because you and I are one and the same,
and every day we look back at each other
through a mirror that will never shatter,
and I promise to be there for you always
to hold your hand, look into your beautiful eyes,
and make you laugh.
You brighten my day every morning
and keep me inspired every hour;
I go to sleep every night looking at your gorgeous picture,
and I imagine us together doing everything
and being a part of each other forever;
you keep me coming back for more, like a bubble-bee to a flower;
I am so lucky to be in your life;
you are a golden miracle,
you are a sparkling sun-kissed ocean,
you are a magical and mesmerizing treasure.

I have never met anyone like you,
you are the best thing that has ever happened to me;
I have never felt for anyone like I feel for you,
you are more than words could ever describe,
and I have been unable to control or describe exactly
what I feel when I look at you,
nor could I ever thank you enough for what you do for me every day.
You are so special, you are so invigorating,
you take the beats of my heart to another level,
you are a blessing to the entire world,
and I will always love you,
and I will be there for you like no one ever has,
and fight the fights for you that need fighting.

You and I are the composers of the same song.
You and I are the rhythm of each other’s life,
and we know each other as well as we know ourselves.
You and I are meant to be,
and as we walk together side-by-side
we will never put a foot wrong.
You and I are each other’s life’s blood,
and the air in each other’s lungs,
and the constant reinvigoration of each other’s spirit-
and we are each other’s daily-assured regimen
and source of happiness, and the guaranteed and dependable
magic potion for good luck and good health.

I think about you every second.
You are my everything-
my here, my now, my dream come true, my future.
I am in-awe of you more than any other star I have ever seen,
and your light fills my world more so than the sun.
You are perfect. You always will be all that I want,
and I promise to love forever, my goddess, my princess, my angel,
my Melissa.

Every time I can, any day I am free,
I like to visit my favourite coffee shop wherever I am,
in whatever town or city I am in,
and sit down, listen to the always great music playing,
take in the ambiance of inside and outside,
maybe even have a Blueberry muffin
in my usual seat, at my usual table, looking out the window,
while enjoying a frothie caramel-drizzled coffee.

I love coming back to my favourite coffee shop,
I love visiting a store I have never been to before,
and because of the inspiration that I imbibe from being here,
and because the atmosphere is always amazing and different every time,
I always stay in to drink and eat-
for me, every time I come to Starbucks, it is never just a short-stop.

I have been to many different coffee shops,
I have been to many different Starbucks in different cities
and towns around the world-
from Birmingham, Solihull, and Coventry, in the UK,
to one or two of the many Starbucks in New York City-
early in the morning for breakfast,
in the afternoon for lunch,
or late at night surrounded by bright lights.
Every experience I have had in Starbucks
has been one that I always remember, and I am always inspired by,
and every time I come to Starbucks
I do feel like something wonderful and new has been awakened in me.

I have been to Starbucks alone,
I have shared deep, meaningful, and phenomenal
states of transcendence and conversation with friends,
I have written poetry after taking a mere sip of a Machiatto,
and feeling like I have been transported to a wonderful,
inspiring, fascinating, connected, inclusive, Wi-Fi, worry-free zone.

I have never wanted to be anywhere else than in Starbucks
on a rainy day like today,
enjoying my favourite caffeine-filled beverage,
looking around, thinking and seeing where my attention will take me,
enjoying every moment, and making the most of every second
of reflection and refraction-
not knowing where my thoughts, where my imagination,
will carry me, nor where it will all end.

In Starbucks you can sit down in a comfy chair,
chat with your friends, laugh, joke, surf the internet,
drink, eat, write a poem, read a book;
in Starbucks you can be anonymous,
you can be anybody, you can say anything, you can feel so much,
you can meet someone you have known for years,
you can meet someone new,
you can realise something you never knew-
because there is no other place that I love coming back to,
than my favourite coffee shop, the place with the deepest of cups,
the one and only, Starbucks.

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The stars above twinkle brilliantly
in the shimmering light of the Summer night,
the heat in the air, the closeness,
the stickiness, the dryness, the silence,
is like a blanket over everything,
but a cool breeze that feels as if it has magically
come out of nowhere makes everything feel
more like heaven then hell-
not too cold, not too warm: just right.

Well into the night, families, friends, people,
everyone is taking full-advantage of the great weather
and are out in their gardens enjoying themselves-
some people are drinking,
some people are just sitting there in the open-air,
some people are writing, some people are reading,
some people are trying to get a good night’s rest,
some people are listening to music-
this heat can make people do funny things,
things that until they surprise you
with something completely random that they do
you would never think they had it in them-
it’s like they’re under a spell.

It’s amazing to me how calm it is,
it’s phenomenal to me how beautiful the world looks
even in darkness,
it’s astonishing to me how much I and everything seems at ease,
it’s perfect to me how much people feel drawn together
to be together by something universally-natural and subconscious.

Lying on my bed, the insomnia from the heat of the night
soaks into me thoughts and makes me dream awake
of far-away tropical rain-forests, white sandy beaches,
and swimming in the cool revitalising ocean coast
of a lush isolated island somewhere,
and when I do dream the images that explode into life
and colour my imagination, my mind, my heart, and my soul,
make me sleep, wake, and live each day without a care in the world.

On a moonlit night, dressed all in black,
a man walks the streets of his town,
reflecting on the night that has passed
and also on the realization that he cannot give back.

To taxi drivers, and early-morning passers-by,
he is like a ghost in the street lights;
and as he takes a step closer towards home,
it occurs to him that no one really knows him-
people think they do, but he is not the person
that some people believe they are capturing in their sights.

We can never truly know how we are seen by others,
nor what our emanating first-impression is-
all that the man knows is that tonight
he got a glimpse into a mirror that showed him
how people perceive him,
and he wonders if it is a recurring after-image
that when he is described everyone sees.

Maybe it is because, these days,
his words speak for him without him even opening his mouth-
he has found that actions, especially his own,
have spoken silent volumes about who people are-
and that fact he too thinks long and hard about.

Perhaps he is a closed-book
that periodically and uncontrollably
sometimes has their cover opened
and their pages turned by the winds of the world,
and if it were not for a book-mark here and there
nothing about him would be known or unfurled.

We are all a mystery to one-another,
sometimes even to our friends, and our families;
sometimes we are even a mystery to ourselves-
just because we live our lives
does not mean that we know everything about our lives;
sometimes things lie out of reach on perceptions highest shelves.

Song-writers and story-tellers have been singing about and describing
men and women in black for some time now,
but until last night and this morning
this Man in Black never understood who they were talking about
and he never thought that a person like that
would be a person like me.
He wonders if he will always be a Man in Black;
however, that is not for him to know,
that is not for him to see.

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