Bouquet
Opt in, wedlock of gods, is it
Nay, its the wedlock of Alanda
Mouths swept words like broom
Alanda was the joyous groom
Before groom and bride to flame
Lonpe, bride in choice of successor
Fling the rose, its fragrant blooms
Teens, girls, damsels full and bloom
Trains of bride in contest of flair
Agape the mouths, moods of guests
But the odds this world is fraught
In search of love, marriage and bliss
Like eagles to air, she flew above
Amazed, the guests, the girls in contest
When 50 years old caught the bouquet
Next bride she will, predicted, her priest
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