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.
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