At the Stroke of Midnigiht
AT THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT
Night had fallen
and the twilight sky grew dark
A soft wind whistled
across the pine trees bark
In the silence
we walked along, not holding hands
We felt our love
was drifting with the time worn sands
~
Clouds mingled high among bright silver stars
that sparkled in the distant sky
We knew the time had come and lingered long
afraid to be the one to say goodbye
~
Now, when I hear the church bells
deep at night,
I cry
For the love we felt so wrong, was right
When I hear
the mournful stroke of midnight
I know it means
that he, no more will hold me tight
©N L B
3/14/09
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