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Between the beloved one who lifts my heart
And the distant shore
So much hunger speaks of a time
That has come and gone
Yet remains in my sweet dreams
Forevermore

Through all those sights and sounds
Up high into the stars
There is a compass with no age
Set with perfect hands
That leads me home
Where you are

When together we are returned at last
Where we no longer sleep
Mingling in the joy we unleash
Here in an ethereal bliss
No time can ever change or hold
When hunger speaks
Copyright *Neva Flores @2011
www.changefulstormpoetry.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Changefulstorm
Fall is any photographer's dream.
They capture the colors, the morning steam.
They watch rainbows move into a tree,
They observe things no others can see.
They open their eyes and see heaven on earth,
They consider fall the season of birth.

— The End —