Wedding Bells
At wedding bells the bride’s heart swells,
the groom, hungover, takes a pill
Amongst buttons, bows and hats, the mothers
do their thing,
and bark sharp orders
So much pressing, so much starch
will keep out creases ‘neath the church’s arch
All make-up made up, hairspray applied
time for guests to stroll in, side-by-side
All hearts together, except the bride and groom’s
being kept apart in different rooms
as beneath neat hair, their minds unfurl
and twist and spin and bounce and curl
at the question asked, by those concerned,
‘Have you found The One, is the wedding earned?’
‘Well, ask your heart,’ says the vacant stare
from the mirror’s glass, within the pale face there,
a heart decorated like a Faberge egg,
feeling laden, yet pretty, atop wobbly legs
The bells chime again, to unlock heaven’s door
and at this point, in England, the rains usually pour
So, the bride and groom, the last to arrive
are doused well, with raindrops
and tears of pride
And after all this song and dance,
a long-time since they took their chance,
these lovers’ words, once said in private
now stake a claim in open climate,
where things may change, fate rearrange
after champagne’s drunk like lemonade
Yet, all these words, and all these thoughts
all the goods, the services which had been bought
now melt away, in a single moment
as the deed is done, in longing torment
And lips, which had been bitten dry
are once again allowed to fly
‘You may kiss the bride,’ the command is given,
the cage released, the dove is risen
Those lips, now too released, don’t speak,
but kiss away all doubts absurd
and all the noise which left them weak
Is drowned out by their hearts’ song heard
