Twas a starry night so long ago,
Two young lovers, with no place to go.
A quite night, not a cloud in the sky,
Then a bright streak, as a shooting star, passed by.
Hand in hand, underneath a big oak tree,
Alone at last, as they wanted to be.
Eyes ablaze, with passionate fury,
He put his arms around her,just held her, no need
To hurry.
They spoke no words, there were none needed,
Both felt the magic, of there hearts beating.
Eyes met, eyes locked, then held,
He pulled his arms from around her, and beside her
He knelt.
A pocket knife, appeared in his hand,
More than passion, was true love, shared between
Woman and man.He carved their initials, slowly
And beautifully, together, forever, to remain in
The old oak tree.
A happy marriage, many, many, years,
Three children, grandchildren,and fifty years.
On her eightyth birthday the angels came,
God called her home, and took her away.
The happiness and magic, dreams they shared,
How would he make it without her, this woman who
Cared.
Memory upon memory, as he stared at the old oak tree, names still joined, and he ran his hands over them lovingly. he remembered the sparkle,
As she gazed at him with pride,then the old man
Broke down and cried.
Years and years later, on a starry night,
A young boy, pulled out his pocket knife.
a young girl, looked at him with stars in her eyes
And her gaze was one of loving pride.
The old oak tree became a symbol of love,
And the old man, and old woman, smiled, as they looked from above
You can bet I love this one! A poem well done and a great idea!