Behold the sacred hour, the dawn of light,
Where two distinct souls in their path unite.
No fleeting pomp, nor revelry of day,
Can match the silent strength of this display.
Like ancient oaks that stand against the gale,
Your bond shall prosper where the lesser fail.
Though storms may rage and winter winds may blow,
The roots you plant today shall deeper grow.
Lay stone by stone to build a temple fair,
A sanctuary safe from worldly care.
Let patience be the mortar, truth the stone,
To craft a life that you may call your own.
And when the silver touches on your brow,
You shall recall the fervor of this vow;
Walking the twilight path, hand held in hand,
The truest, steadfast lovers in the land.


