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 Aug 2015 Chuck
CA Guilfoyle
There was a bird that time, a flicker
they always remind me of you
the melt of spring fever, the tapping on the roof
how like snow the petals flew
that window, the rain, the rainbows too
the breath and sigh of you
our springtime walks
the way the forest talked
soon of summer to come
we were completely undone
unchained in the falling rains
sweet like music the call
of your name.
written for Jim
 Aug 2015 Chuck
CA Guilfoyle
A fevered pulse
though sweat moves slow
as night falls
fast upon our bed
breath of steam
we float like dream
to fill the hollows
sink, we swallow
the light of gold
we seek to follow
hear a blue calling
under the ache of stars
as the moon blooms
softly sallow.
 Aug 2015 Chuck
K Mae
Collapse
with intention to expand undefined
Unburden
with goal of freedom
Unwind.
Imagine loss   Consider joy
    Loose the grip   Soothe the mind
   Lose belief in loss
 Aug 2015 Chuck
K Mae
who the lover
 Aug 2015 Chuck
K Mae
who is it now who loves me
who changes tune for every feast
of every new curve learned
who echoes deeply as I howl
responds to shimmies and the luster
sliding all along the rim
I like to think it's all of from him
but peering over edges I can see
who shines a light in darkness
It Is Me
 Aug 2015 Chuck
K Mae
as only I
 Aug 2015 Chuck
K Mae
words and color swirls and stains
creating folds in space
  portray perception
glimpsing now
as only
I can see
so paint it out
following curves
all  just a play for me
Who paints the world with sunshine
and whispers louder
that which matters,
with whirling streaks of hope?  
When I am spinning round
with speaking eyes
for unexpected hours.  
Feeling alone………..
as an unspeaking ghost.

I wait with a passion
and a fire inside.
Lit by a precious brilliance
with a smile of wonder
on my face.  
Until your light paints my hands
which ache……
my heart beats to claim
your ever saving grace.
Copyright @2015 - Neva Flores Smith - Changefulstorm
Steady streams of reflections
kiss my weaknesses
and speak to all my struggles
dancing like leaves in the back of my mind.  
While the scent of happiness
breaks my heart
on unseen mountains
I attempt to climb.

Empty time of the whitest sand
keeps me awake
and runs with arrogance
across the stones of all my questions.
Still….I won’t say
what calls to my world,
or breathe a word, when you delight
in your burning suggestions.
Copyright @2015 - Neva Varga - Changefulstorm
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