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I Feed That Which Brings Me to My Knees

My kisses are not eager to defend distant voices that say it is cold now
After all the joy of idle hours, when you were my valentine
I feed that which brings me to my knees, by hand
As whispers from leaves show me flaws
My head tells me are not mine

A river from my long ago flows in a victorious bout of peacefulness
Releasing silent showers into skies of vivid sunny blue
While my kisses are carried by muses that wave
At the sighs they find in these thoughts
My heart pens here of you

My ears raise questions that stare back at me utterly astounded
Asking why I fight that which brings me to my knees
When I know I may never, ever meet again
This place where my heart is guided
Into all my kisses can see

Echoes are heard here and there of transformation, whispered to me
My kisses are not eager to defend or take flight with wings
So I feed that which brings me to my knees, by hand
Close my eyes, as only sighs do I see
And this joy in everything

© 2011 Neva Flores – Changefulstorm