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