The Celts
I love you he said as he lay supine abed.
Through veiled tears masked by a smile,
she glowed comely, masking fear and dread,
kissing weathered cheeks, gently,
her wares availed
and duly spread.
A gift of love to offer only one.
All pangs of fear now fled,
the child bride smiling all the while.
A woman now, resplendent dwells instead.
Taking charge of things anon,
she quickly whisks the room.
Baking yeast bread;
akimbo, she smiles….. “Clan Gunn” !
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