The Oak TreeUnderneath the late night skywhen all birds have ceased to fly.There beneath the tall oak tree,standing with him I was totally free.The moonlight shone, down on a stone.The stone I sat on to begin to sing,when on my hand he placed a ring.When we were wed I felt such joy.A joy I thought nothing could destroy.I love him more than life can say.Our love pressed us through each day.Now on this sacred ground I stand,under the tree, red rose in handby a polished stone, which was newclose by where the oak tree grew.Only I know what my husband did,he planted this tree as a kid.He greatly loved the giant tree.A love he then shared wi
Your a good stamper.
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