Her Stars, His Sunrise

It never seemed to be the same

they always seemed to miss each other

being other places, other times,

 

“Her stars, his sunrise

never the twain shall meet”

 

The softness of the morning light

the coldness of the night stars

The longing that both of them felt,

became sleepless nights,

and headache mornings

 

Wanting is not the same as having

and wishing doesn’t always become getting,

 

The earth rotated

the scenes repeated themselves

separated, they were in time and space,

Though together, in their

thoughts…..

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Author: notthedane56

My heathen tendencies are waiting to blossom at the Mid-Summer Evening in Denmark. In a Country that professes to have an overwhelming population of believers in the Christian Faith, I am always reassured by their pagan ways, at least one night per year. I won't be throwing myself on the bonfire, but I plan on being warmed by the thoughts of the fun-loving Danes, burning witches at the stake, while singing songs and drinking beer!

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