Meadow
A forested skyline,
A small clearing for two,
Their hands nervously intertwined,
Hearts filled the purity of innocence and the wisdom of temperance,
With tears brimming in their eyes they lock each other's gaze hearts pounding with purpose,
Envisioning white ball gowns and pixelated costume parties,
And dreaming of endless nights together counting the paper-mache stars,
Under God's guidance they begin this matrimony,
A reciprocal appreciation transcribed in volumes of conversation bounded by a passion that leaves them breathless,
Christening their love without the need of immoral decadence,
Two earnest hearts approach each other eager to bind,
Their love with four little words to begin their life anew,
"Will you be mine?"
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