Mormon Wedding

The chapel, with wood lined walls, honey coloured gleams in the light of candles and lanterns. Ever smiling elders younger than most. With sharp suits and sharper smiles bow us to our seats. The groom, in hired clothing . Waits The bishop nods, and strange eyes burn behind pebble glasses. The organist plays unknown music. Changing to Pachabel's canon in D when a rustle of silk annonces the bride. Strange words and rites drift around this place, and I wonder why I am with these unknown people of God. My friend turns, and with his bride moves down the aisle. He smiles at me when he passes, and in his delight all strangeness leaves