PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Standing outside,
a cozy church.
Holding my Tussie Mussie,
full of the boldest roses.
Red, coral, fuschia,
and blood orange.
For only colours,
of passion will do.

My new white dress,
white and sparkling.
Borrowed veil floating,
soft white against blonde hair.
Tiara of delicate diamonds,
princess for only a night.
Lacey baby blue garter,
feels strange on my thigh.

Six pence in my shoe,
to start us on the right foot,
Stilletto strappy heels,
make me feel so high.
I look at my old ring,
my engagement ring.
I try to breathe slowly,
take it all in, impossible.

My blue eyes start to water,
as I look to my escort.
He who has loved me well,
for over a decade, my friend.
Stepping up where my Dad,
has decided not to be.
I hear the music start,
and look to my group.

Our beloved daughter,
the flower girl begins it.
Our friends' young son,
the ring bearer goes in.
My sister kisses my cheek,
my matron of honour.
Oh, I can't stop smiling,
until the music changes.

Now its the bridal march,
time for me to go to her.
I walk to the petal covered aisle,
dying to see her in her tux.
My lover for life and ever after,
she is so beautiful, so sweet.
The walk down the aisle,
seems to take forever.

Unity candles to light,
vows to be sworn,
While a tartan sash is tied,
around our clasped hands.
Then I wake from my dream,
sitting at my desk at work.
But I don't even think to cry,
for it is happening in real life.