The White Madonna

She walked down the isle in an eburnean dress looking like a beautiful Madonna I must confess her hair long as Rapunzel was braided in a tress she walked and she talked like a Royal Empress I sat there in a wooden pew solitary as a mouse admiring her stature, she was marrying a louse but money is what she needed, and a big house I was no more than a little poor hungry grouse Abasking in the infusion of her sun I was her host lost inside an old church, just like the Holy Ghost the preacher began to talk and I hid behind a post counting my losses feeling small, and very lost... She swayed, turning two lustrous eyes my way waiting for me to speak, what I couldn't say poor as a church mouse all I could say is nay then she said no, and that really made my day.