The Bouquet
The bride created her bouquet
With seeming just-picked flowers,
The pretty kind that benefitted
From a day of showers.
Her perfect simple long white gown
Fulfilled part of its mission –
To highlight those sweet blossoms
In accordance with tradition.
But this bouquet was different
Since a secret it concealed,
A tribute to her dad to whom
The thought would have appealed.
For wrapped around the clutch of stems,
Right where her hands would touch,
Was a necktie of her father’s
Whom she surely missed so much.
She didn’t advertise the fact,
A private gesture; still,
Just as touching as I’ve ever seen
And think I ever will.
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