Saturday, May 13, 2006
The Wedding Cometh... (an original poem)
The bride is ready for the day and the guests are ill-prepared. The decorations, elaborate in show, deteriorate upon touch. The bell sounds! All come to a stop and the procession takes two steps beyond...then back.
Somewhere under a roof of blue, a choir's sad song reunites the gathering but the white garments that she wears have lost radiance despite the embracing hymn. Who will hold the hands of groom now that golden bands have lost purpose and meaning...
December day done... now that the May has come.
