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I have a garden full of time as a beautiful display when twilight goes to sleep and my true self finds balance. Here I find the brightest side of myself and fear cannot tear me down with its dark silence.

I can see a crescent moon connected to my life story as an illusion within a reality where I can feel the roaming of my soul.  And my  head never bends low when I seek the solution to finally be whole.

Yes, sometimes I need a bit more space where no other presence walks upon my solitude, where my mind can rest. This is the place where I can pick up my pen and let my heart bleed how I am blessed.
Copyright @2019 - Neva Smith Varga
Before showers of a shipwreck aged the cobwebs within the expansion of time to become a new day, I felt the breeze of you.  Your laughter kept me awake and wrapped my sleep, in hours. There, I walked in places, where all your gardens grew.

I whirled in the comprehension of your candle’s light encased in a thousand thoughts of last year’s stars, their immortality.  Yes, I’m still here upon this throne held captive by your smile.  The very image keeps darkness frozen, far away from me.

The fragrance of your mind is the mirror my soul admires in a silence that winds the threads that trace your lips.  Here is the place where I hear music that says, “I love you”, inside of memories.  My words fill up this page and your heart tastes each sip.
Copyright @2019 - Neva Flores Smith Changefulstorm Poetry 04/15/j19
A wild new wind northeasterly blew across all you needed to slow your pulse, send you on a quest deep enough for years. There you looked into the keyhole once again and found yourself distracted by the very heart of all your fears.

Streams of it’s your own **** fault entered both your ears in faint beams of weathered destinations where you danced on frozen lakes. It’s there you realized you had been introduced to the roots which seal a kiss with all of your heartaches.

You ask yourself if it’s harder to abandon the clouds of experience, walk away and rise to see what you can see. While I watch you leave a legacy of tilting windmills on a sunset of phrases and words that breathe in a ceremony only heard by me.
Copyright @2019 - Neva Varga - Changefulstorm Poetry
A pulse could hush the feel of skin
as it runs peaceful, always on the move.
There is an inside outside
need to breathe,
frequent release,
from all that’s smooth.

There is one in every shade,
wafting through dreams of joy and fear, not taken.
In a playground where you can’t see,
how the eyes of truth
exhale a sacredness,

Serenity weeps
as it looks upon the waves
that pull you in without chains.
While an echo finds contentment
on the lips of imagination,
gone insane.

On the beaches of your mind
you have wings,
playing the lead role of a play.
Would I known the wars-a-waging there,
I wouldn’t have fed passion,
a single day.
Neva Varga -Copyright @2018 Changefulstorm Poetry - 11/05/18
Show me home in your eyes of fire
while still setting me free
to cross those bridges
I may burn.
Allow what we have to rest
in quiet happiness
of all the unknown ways
we can learn.

Exhale above me with lips
with no selfishness
and an intimacy I can see
without searching.  
Exhaust my inner urges
with your ink and paper
while I soar within
my yearning.

Pen me poetry that cries out
to be the lyrics,
all the pieces of my heart
learn how to sing.
Turn the key to the lock
of beautiful phrases,
draw me a fine portrait with
your word strings.
Copyright Neva Varga @ 10/15/18 - Changefulstorm Poetry
Is it even possible to contemplate a sea of promises unfolding petal by petal like an open book made of glass?  If I saw my world as a heartbeat would tonight be different than the flight of my past?

Why should everything dwell among a skin of silent beauty while the fire waits for meaning from a grain of sand?  Is it because our eyes lack hearts that sing to the butterflies as they arrive and land?

Should I hide behind the universe of whispering trees and brush my hands across the doors that keep me wishing? Until, I wonder if I’ll run out of rhymes if I part myself from my inner beauty misting.

I have secrets I hear laughing full of words that speak to me as a lion knocks down the door of breaking all the rules.  Still, I want to touch the glory of solitude’s lovely face and dance with mischief’s fool.
Copyright @2018 Neva Varga 10/01/18 - Changefulstorm Poetry
A touch we took, because each breath we wore, whispered yes, inside the searching.  So, we circled all our pride with warmth of reason, so we could keep from hurting.

We both smiled at those clouds of divine truth, spinning backwards as they dispensed.  Since an appetite for silence, fueled the moon and stars in this world, as our defense.

One storm caught a kiss we thought had touched the ground of breathtaking rivers to the sea. Yet, neither of us cried out in fear or yearned to fill the empty space, left for free.
Neva Flores Varga Copyright@09/17/18 - Changefulstorm Poetry
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