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