underneath the blue ocean,
deep in god's eternal gaze,
inside a woman's emotion,
wandering the evergreen maze,

between a bird's beak and feather,
behind the ancient cellar door,
through seams of velvet and leather,
swimming the seas of salvador,

in the taste of honey sweet,
across the valleys of a face,
on the bottom of a lady's feet,
dancing on the clouds with grace,

beautiful worlds in beautiful words,
my true heart's pleasure,
beautiful worlds in beautiful words,
my true mind's treasure.

I love the way he looks at me
every time his heart feels
the night's embrace.
And my body desires to dance for him
until morning falls
upon his face

I watch him drink each hour
from a cup of moonlight ecstasy.
While my hands touch his skin
as a breeze...........
that whispers me.

The morning finds me holding on
to a cup
of memories.
My heart drinks them in
as Dawn.....
kisses me.

Copyright @2014  - Neva Flores Smith

Less I have to say with criticism
than I do with praise,
for criticism would simply
provoke justification
and resentment.

It was as if they wrote only to set us free,
never thinking twice about the landing or flight,
plowing dirt fields, with scores of prose, in sorrow and delight.
In a room of sun, where seasons come
with snow and rain, and none will ever be the same,
long after the reading, and none will ever know the poet's name
or why the words have opened wide
their buried hearts
to grieving.

the clouds bloom
like mysterious flowers
seeming  to survive by soaking up
the tears of the waiting multitude.
they churn the wind
causing it to blow through
my every cell
filtering through my every pore
as i abandon any hope
of maintaining some adult-like dignity
the puddles call
the rain falls
and i let myself go

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   10.07.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish