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Some try to convince themselves,
this is the rarest of sensations
as they walk along the edges of a place
where their name is whispered by a spring
that flows love to all.
Still, we wonder
if it takes a truly perfect heart
beating softly
inside of a self-built cocoon
to be inspired,
hear the call.  

Does nightfall build the pressure felt
of those who fall
until they lower their expectations
find they are climbing mountains
hoping to catch
the silvery moon?
Is it not obvious that these hearts
will travel fearlessly
always bowing their heads
and closing their eyes,
in hope true love
will blossom soon.

I wonder if they have folded their hearts'
around an ache
no one is able to see.
Or if this is only the beginning
of recognizing myself
in their mirror.  
This rare sensation I feel
walking along the same edge
is merely erasing each step
fearlessly taken.
The silvery moon
has not....
grown any nearer.
Copyright @2012 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
Unravel the night as it nods off
to become a wall of darkness
until the sun looks into your eyes
once again
and you feel the pain of truth.  
Then tell me what is real
among the promises we have made
and why the blood running through our veins
speaks of us,
as our hearts are seduced.

How can we continue to live on the edge
where each breath we take
challenges our bodies to become
victoriously in control?  
When our hearts' wish to speak
of the need to see each other's face
and how love's flame  burns
within our eyes then moves
inward to the depth
of our souls.
Copyright @2012 - Neva Flores-Changefulstorm
The fire of love clings to hidden winds
and flourishes as it turns
without thought
to envelop the music
of your imagination.
It then peeks at the silence
created by its own tug of war
whispering..........
come one, come all,
feel this sensation.

The fire of love removes all distance,
chants your name
until our bodies  blur space and time
and you and I find
we are viewing the world
through the same pair of eyes.
Between our hearts
we both know
desire feeds the flame,
listen to them beat,
the rhythm.........
is now
the same.
Copyright @2012 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
My senses wonder how to find peace
among company not familiar
with the lightest touch.  
Even though I have written down
everything of which I dream.  
My words are not heralded
by the new age the same
because a pebble
means more to them
than a beautiful sunset's beams.

The youngest
seem to rise inside the walls
with no names,
disguised as sparkling diamonds
known as hope.  
I must beware of their winds
as they can overwhelm
the very air I cradle and for which I fight.  
Or, I may find my Heaven
has become absent
and that I have given up everything
I know to be right.

I could look straight through the glass
and hear the strangest voices ever
from my reality.  
And, I would want to know
what lies at the bottom,  
posing as flowers for my hair.
Still, I find there are wrinkles in my climate
painted on the panes of life,
numbed by “I don't care”.

If I tried to escape or perhaps fight
for what I believe,
would I be considered shallow?  
Could I still feel   the appeal of peace
or would I want to cover my heart in sleep?  
So, I watch the schemes
of those not familiar with the lightest touch
then watch them drink the wine
of what they reap.
Copyright @2012 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
Have you ever found yourself  quivering
outside of lines
stained
by what you thought was a love story?
Wondering
if you will be swallowed whole
by the window you sit and stare out,
in love's well meaning glory.

Beneath passion  blowing through the door
visiting your mind
like those little things
filled with a warmth
you have wanted
for so long.
Often, you find life
is at its happiest inside your dreams,
where nothing's wrong.

Sometimes in the middle of the night  
you want to be
a never-ending flow of love
smiling at the hands
on the Clock of Emptiness,
stuck in place.  
However, time melts into years
until starlight becomes well versed
at hiding the shadow of tears
on your face.
Copyright @2012 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
From where my body understands
that youth has told me goodbye.
A few steps more......
and I am starting to think
my life still contains
little pieces of a beginning
that will never die.

Betrayal, fills in the blanks
when I try to hold back
from singing the melody.....
of my heart.
When I'm looking for that someone
who is able to run
through my forest
written in.........
as my other part.

In all this waiting for love,
my youth.......has become
a memory.....
protected..........by no sword or shield.
I cannot find favor on any day
that I spend counting leaves on trees....
that stand........
in quietly, fading fields.

I can no longer stand in secret
knowing my youth
lies on its back, pleading.......
to be young, once again.
While I breathe in the footsteps........
of a long lost smile......
weaved around a love
I keep waiting..........
to begin.
Copyright @2012 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
Sometimes two hearts write the most beautiful poetry together, completely by accident.

It's one a.m. and one heart can't sleep...........sends a simple message ......I Love You My Heart, not even expecting a reply.  It's one a.m. and that other heart can't sleep either.........replies, I Love You..........

Ah!  one heart replies, I knew I felt you, where in turn the other replies you can feel me anytime, which of course for those of us with a sense of  humor can be taken lot's of ways, both hearts think with a smile.  

The first heart replies, oh yes, always, but sometimes it's as if I can feel your breath on my cheek..........
Neva Flores
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