A Mortal Vow

A MORTAL VOW My one mind mends a mortal vow And holds her cold hand ‘til the end I knew I need my mother’s cow To please the people whom I’ve lent. These cord and veil create the life That most of us eager to love Not from the other but own wife The strange we feel is a white dove. Yeah, mine heart will not wall you out If ever storms might have to dance. Speak because I believe no doubt. For sure I’d only fallen once High altar should we remember Where we held here the first God’s will. Though this abbey seems December Our gestures of blissfulness dwell. Whenever a gale of wind spoke To the left sway after the right And we need not a puff of smoke While waiting times to speak of bright.