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Do you turn away from eyes that sing on nights filled with emotion
Never wondering if you could drown in your imagination
Without understanding all the poetry that dances in your heart
Warming words of choice, in your tongue of fascination

Do your hours exist in a sky familiar with moments such as these
Is there nowhere to look for heaven free of possession
Where words do not cry out to be contemplated by your pen
To become lovely music giving light to your obsession

Can one learn to be absent from this transparent house of glass  
And remove this flowing ink that runs within their veins
Still breathe without giving out a subtle handful of their soul
Each time a word calls out to be painted in a refrain

I cannot turn from eyes that sing on nights filled with emotion
My heaven is this possession in which I freely drown
You may not understand the poetry dancing in my heart
Still I will write, until I become dust, in the ground
© 2011 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
www.changefulstormpoetry.blogspot.com
Breathe, when thunder questions how long you can hold your breath
When clouds bring you to remember all of your mistakes
You will find inspiration, a drop of water to quench your thirst
The light in your eyes will shine as calmness you remake

Breathe, when your mind loses touch with the static of your energy
When there seems to be no lantern to light your way
You will begin to paint that picture of a sun which shines again
Watching joy run happily through the halls of your day

Breathe, when no happiness can you seem to ever find in your heart
When everything makes you feel worn down and hungry
You will begin to feel better in knowing that all hope is not lost
Roses will bloom, in the grand design, of your victory

Breathe, when you cannot remember the lessons you have learned
When all you can think about are the wolves at your door
Soon, your spirit will find comfort in a quiet solace there at play
Wondering what you were ever holding your breath in for
Changefulstorm Poetry - http://www.changefulstormpoetry.blogspot.com
Capricious waves push at my hands, show how much you mean to me
Do you remember how we used to play instead of talk
I would dress for my day while you stood with your back turned
Considering if you should go ahead and celebrate the details
Of a few minutes drawn in chalk

Our eyes look down the road at the reasons we have to be grateful
Looking at skid marks left in place from better times
While a wisp of smoke considers those heels I wore for you
That tore down the walls in our bedroom many nights
As the memories filled your mind

Just a little air to breathe was all we needed inside of this our warmth
So we would be able to feel the joy of love without labels
You stepped back and so did I to sip from the glass of our glow
Because we thought routine had taken all control
Leaving nothing on our table

I find I cannot breathe the air and this drink has lost its glow
Have you forgotten how we used to play
Where is that wisp of smoke that remembers me in heels
That tore down the walls in our bedroom
As we undressed our day
Copyright *Neva Flores @2011

http://www.changefulstormpoetry.blogspot.com
In all of the directions of what you want to tell me
Comes anything that looks better in motion
Although I am torn by the reasons
I try hard to project
Fact is, there are moments I yield to emotion

I can relax out of earshot of any kind of danger
That does not scatter or burn anyone else
Yet I am not meaning to remember
Why all the hours acknowledge
What I don’t know, ‘cause I won’t tell myself

Acceptance, my sweetheart is a difficult thought
Believe me; I know what has to be done
While held under the watchful eye
Of the hand tightly holding
Love’s gun
*Copyright *Neva Flores @2011

http://www.changefulstormpoetry.blogspot.com
Chains quiver under the tongue of flames then lie dead to you
So how can they still sing to me until I cannot forget?
That the grip of time will never end
And even if I go away my lips will smile
With blinded eyes

A shell of seclusion asks at last if I miss those possibilities
Of your constant sifting through my soul and mind
Until hope is no longer a dream
And your flames breathe upon the petals
Chained in ecstasy

The gifts I wish away are still mine to have and know
Held by a single hand with no magical wand
Yet I seem to view the dawn
As a strange rain that brings me gloom
Chained to here and gone

If chains quiver under the tongue of flames then lie dead to you
What is this voice I carry inside my heart to remain?
When all it seems merely waits for me
To release my tears and sweetly smile again
Blinded to the chains
*Copyright Neva Flores @2011
Through all the ways I feel
while every other explanation
clouds my mind,
to be with you now
still fades into highlights
as the music of my soul.

Tinted bit by bit by what is lost
is tomorrow,
bathed in bright tracks
everyone can see leaving
as I tried to
for years and years.

Dancing in the air
are thoughts
that do not know your name
with voices
breathing doubt
into my senses.

Now will endless seconds
share the same sky
with the prelude
that resonates
from everything I know?

Does a chance watch a veil
climb the stairway of daydreams
with eyes
that give what is inside
of me away?

While I long to call what runs around me,
only minutes
of which I have no control,
and like a giant oak
I bend against my grain.

After circling through all the ways I feel
and dancing in the air
with these thoughts;
I find everything
has become tinted bit by bit
by what is found today.

So now I watch darkness
escape up the stairway of daydreams
while chance takes its warmth
from the veil as it falls.

Still, while I may long to call what we are,
miles away from love,
I find myself following
all the ways
I feel about you.
*Copyright *Neva Flores @2011

Sometimes we do best just to follow our hearts...........
The sky’s nose is pressed to the window of a loner’s heart
Knowing something dances in the bottom
And it stands in front of him

Nothing in life shows what a loner really feels
More than that fountain of ink
Whispering from her pen

Still the sky wonders if there is anything really there
Or if a loner’s heart is merely full
Of emptiness dancing bare

You can see the sky’s ear pressed ever so closely  
Against the window of a loner’s heart
Listening to the pulsing beat

Knowing something wondrous dances in the bottom
It is timeless yet, still he wonders
If it only dances in the ink
Copyright @2011- Neva Flores Smith
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