On a lonesome night,
Wintry, crisp, remote;
Tumbled notes of faith
From an inky cloak.
As the frost-buds dropped
On the slumb'ring loam,
All the stars were hidden
In their sable dome.
Swept and carried off
Through the silent trees,
Together we sought
Heaven’s mysteries.
Our hands entwined
Beneath a somber moon.
Tomorrow’s prospects:
Unmarked sands, bestrewn.
The tapestry bright
With disparate threads;
God’s matchless blessing
Released on our heads.
** This is the edited version...many thanks to all of you for your suggestions. Please tell me what you think of the revision!
