I sit alone sometimes at night
and watch the stars above
the moon in all its fullness
like the feathers of a dove.
But the house seems so empty
inside from where I look
dreary and full of fiction
like a story in a book.
And yet these things I feel
can easily be changed
if you open up the door
on which our love is hanged
When I am alone-All alone
I think of times gone by
far away I hear and owl
or a whippoorwill cry.
So as I sit alone at night
and watch the stars above
I see for myself and far all
a house full of silence is not
a home full of love.
Written By: Terry Allen Mosley
