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Inspiration comes like trade winds blow, in secluded places tree tops sway.

Finances go against tides flow and the grey of stormy waves.

Love slips from lips, rising straight and high, like adolescence’s favorite red apple gift.

Tear drops ease droughts prayer, falling free from pained cheeks

slapped, by realities chastisement

These words flow

Not from experience or overcoming, but from foreign feelings linked to an existence unknown

Words stolen from She, who’s cries became mute resting on deaf ears.

Emotions strong, passionate, driven, yearning, reaching, and burning

finding fingered stories told, italic and bold,

These words flow

Edifying my soul, freeing my mind, innervating my prodigal hands to prose.

Written to eyes, spoken for ears that turn voice to converse conversation’s whisper

and calmly, soothes her soul.

©N.N.Williams 2012, all rights reserved.