Wedding Preparations
They found her slumped against the bed that morn,
A bathrobe loosely pulled about her waist,
A folded pile of clothes that she had worn,
No sign that death had come with any haste.
No indications untoward or strange,
Except perhaps that she was on the floor.
You got the sense that this was prearranged;
It made you think there might be something more.
From underneath the bed skirt could be seen
A Bible, worn and loved, that much was clear.
You pulled it out to see what it might mean,
And now you understood what happened here.
“Your lamp, keep full; your wick, keep lit and trimmed.
Behold! The bridegroom comes; go meet with him.”
—————
For Sandy
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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