.

Strings upon strings, the violin weeps

The dim story of the young woman,

In the distance the car engine seeps

Into stone, into wind, into Man,

The lullaby of night takes over

As a chorus of stars joins the moon

Singing a song even the clover

Is powerless to keep out of tune,

Under this ages olden chapel

Where the great organ of life has played

Ever since life bit in the apple

Is where hopes and dreams are neatly laid,

Oh but the notes on the music sheet

Dance a passionate swinging quick step

That a mortal may never quite meet

Without at least one or ten misstep,

All the tinker-tatter of the room

Echoes away in shades of silver,

And there, in the middle, sits the groom,

Voice strong hours before, now a sliver…

.

        Hour 8.

Take away what you will, I will read into it here.