Narrative Wedding Poems

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Details | Narrative |
My cousin shared her wishes and dreams, On our star gazing night, she whispered them so sweet As a shooting star glided down from the sky, She said, I wish ….. I wish…. all I wish are these tonight Someday, I will marry a smart, rich and handsome guy And have a grandiose banquet on my nuptial rite We’ll be dancing like a lovely prince and princess , With all my wedding sponsors on their best suits and dresses All in pink ,that’s the motif I will surely request. She kept into her dreams as several years passed by, Still searching for her prince charming who’s hard to find Unconsciously going beyond the age to give birth to a child, In a hurry at age of seventy, she took a rich ninety years old guy. The wedding was held after a day or two, The guy seated on his wheelchair with rheumatism on his toe She headed slowly at the alter to accept his shaking hands, Two nurses followed, so with sponsors dressed up in printed brown. The highlight of the wedding rite started at once, They held tightly with a nebulizers on the other hands, But the words of oath, they took time to pronounce False teeth were both misplaced and nowhere to be found. Reception followed grandiosely in the guy’s mansion, I saw many old men and women still eager to dance on the floor, With hunched back, shaking knees, they twisted rock and roll Then, sweet music played and my cousin danced with her groom. But, we all wondered how did he stand alone? He’s so heavy , I knew my cousin couldn’t help him at all, With our great surprise, his nurse was at his side like his crutch Everyone thought , he’s really a smart guy! Was he not? Then, everyone followed them so happily on the spacious hall, And in trio, they held each other so tight and moved like a fool.
Written: Sept. 15, 2012 First Place Contest: My Cousin's Wedding (funny poem) Contest Judged: 9/30/2012 Poet Sponsor: Joann Grisetti

Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative |
Wedding Night in Raqqa



Cyclonic violet vision


Etheral and immortal


She swirls her sand baked torso.


Evoking the initial collision of primordial seed,


Swathed in gossamer purple veils,


Writhing to the stomping and clapping


Of jeweled ankles


And henna stained hands.


The tribes have united for my wedding to their son.


I ,foreign and naive, swoon to the power


Of ancient rhythm and verse,


Ripe, fertile gestures,


Pregnant with  throbbing pulses


And scattered beats of flailing arms,


Bleating tongues, spinning robes.


A cacophony of incessant chant rose from the dancing women,


Growning louder, feverish in their pleasure


And the nearness of release.


I join in the dancing.


They swath me in voiles and lead me to the center


I dance, and I succumb to my wedding night in Raqqa.

Copyright © Brenda Atry | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative |
Marry Your Best Friend To Get the Best of Both Worlds

Not many can claim they met their spouse in a battle of wits
much less the fabled (don't believe a word of it!) Internet.
But my uncle, he's not many. And my new aunt? Well she's a keeper.
And it wasn't love like a summer fling --- but it goes much deeper.
The rumors you heard - it's all too true - they met on Online Scrabble:
sesquipedalians by heart, but in the strictest sense, true Word Warriors.
Her last turn was an "I Do"... and when it came, he knew that he was done for:
pussyfooting through the back door, the tenacious Triple Word Score.
The date was planned - his bachelorhood canned. Compensated on Christmas day,
a wifie from Wales to tie the knot with my uncle the Stud from the Spud State.
The Red Dragon Damsel flew in (too strong to be distressed) into my uncle's country life.
(I still remember his clenched fists pouring buckets at the altar ... his first love)
And she brought her little Dragoness, too --- a fiery spark named Emily.
My job was to walk my new British cousin down the aisle,
as she whispered to me, "Should we link arms?"
And though I should have said,  "What's the harm?"
instead of a rather robotic canter --- it now brings a smile.
My lovely Aunt Laura wore an eggplant dress, as if too challenge the mountain majesty
that peaked through the church window of that fine Idahoan morn.
Her glorious entry introduced by a Celtic song that would have made Enya weep,
as the vertigo of vows came to a close like a caged bird being released.
Mariah Carey's famous Christmas hit took to life --- All I Want Is You, rang true,
as they took each other's arms to dance celebrating an unlikely circumstance.
Crossing oceans to become One: she from Barry, and he from Boise.
The After Party --- filled with giggles, tears and rip-roaring stories from every point of view.
The wedding cake (believe it or not) was a Scrabble board:
one slice was Congratulations - and though a bit silly, to me it was poetry.
And my uncle - you could tell - was simply dumbfounded
as she took the words right out of his mouth

... with a crumb-filled smooch.

Written February 27th, 2016.
For the My Wedding Day Is Special Because... hosted by Olive Eloisa Guillermo

NOTE: I've never been married before, so I hope writing about my uncle's wedding instead is acceptable.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |

Forgot the anniversary
Or nearly did
Had I –
There would have been no loud words
Not even weeping
After all these years  (I’m thinking)
Expectations stale
Fond smiles are few    but
There would be a certain period of contemplation
The entire house quiet
The cats? – how do they pick-up vibes? –
The cats are in hiding
The air? – our house is not large – sultry
Just a hint of ash
Vesuvius threatening
The old saying – “Silence speaks   at times
And this for several days
The bill will be tremendous!
Dinner out
A show – Broadway if available
Belated gifts
Everything I do is noticed    criticized
After a month we’re back to normal
How boring
Wasn’t that fun                                        

Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2010

Details | Narrative |
'With these vows the two shall become as one.'

On December 15th. 1971
we decided to fill our wedding day 
 with  a shared passion.
Our love of horses and the romance 
of a horse drawn carriage.
My intended- for years- had preserved his grandfather's  
old sulky, just for the love, of what it stood for. 
We set about a full restoration. First to find 
an upholsterer who could restore 
the aged,  buttoned leather seat 
and to search all the old sheds around 
for a missing candle lamp. So much still needed,
a  leather horse collar, not to mention a harness
and long leather, sulky reins.

We had all the old horsemen from all around the district
offering us  advice - some joking some strict.
Be sure to throw the wooden wheels into a dam to soak
for a week so the wood swells into the steel rims, "Otherwise,
those rims will roll right away,  as soon as you  get going."

Well, the sulky was all finished shiny and ready to roll
without a horse to pull it.  We tried to break a quiet
piebald but Patches wanted nothing to do with it.
Wild eyed at what she sensed was behind her
she bucked and with her panicked hooves tattooed 
the wooden baseboard.  No- one knew of a horse 
these days that was broken to harness- 
except, of course, the Gillen's retired pacer, "Little Rocket.

The big day came and I painted her hooves shiny black,
attached a white feather plume to her forelock bridle strap.
Everyone joked, " When they ring the church bells,
she'll do the bell lap."
An old trusted friend and former rodeo rider drove me 
Little Rocket delivered me to the church in one piece.
The townspeople turned out and lined the main  street.

I'll never forget in the Butcher's shop the next day,
another customer recognized me and told me  a funny tale.
Her little three year old saw me going past and called,
 "Mum, come quick. There a woman going past in a cart 
with something - on her head." 

Still together after forty five years those fond memories
 bind our loving hearts.   When the best man in his speech
announced, " I was the only bride he knew who  had
spent more time - getting the horse ready
than on  herself."

March 7th. 2016

Not for contest
Couldn't do it in 14- 24 lines.

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
"Ma, How are you?
How is dad ?
How is our sweet home and how is my room?
Ma, I know you will be waiting for me,
Dad is calling my mobile continuously,
Thanks for your love my dear,
Ma, you told me only after death a person can go to hell ,
You are wrong my dear mother,
Even after marriage a person can go to hell,
Why this wedding ceremony mother to put dad and you in debt?
You can never fulfill my in-laws because they are not humans,
They can digest money, gold and silver,
How long can you feed them?
Ma, this marriage was not for me,
But for the car, the motor bike, the jewels, the furnitures,
Because they want only those to be with them and not me,
Ma, I know how much dad struggled to make my wedding a grand success,
But my mother -in- law says his son’s life has turned a failure,
They find fault in everything I do, even if I sit or stand,
I don’t know what to do and I simply stand,
Ma, I think He doesn’t like me,
He really knows nothing about marriage or wife,
He thinks wife as a slave and a living doll for her Mom to play and hurt,
They make my body burn, bleed and sore
It is paining ma,
He needs me in night and in the mornings out of his sight,
Ma , how long to grope in darkness ,
Now I have become blind,
They in the name of marriage have bought a richest maid,
My whole body has become numb,
Ma, I am not able to feel myself,
Is this my gender curse?
Ma, but you don’t worry all my problems are going to end,
I cannot let it flow all time , 
I am going to bring a solution for this,
I know who can bring an end to this,
I have come to meet him now,
But there is a big queue ma,
No wonder ! I am going to meet him today,
Ma, only he can resolve this,
Because he created women,
This negotiation is not for my life which ended just 10 mins back,
But for my next birth,
If I have a next birth I want to be only a man,
Ma, you are still waiting for me near the doors,
Dad is still trying for my mobile,
But I will never come,
Ma, I promise you,
When I meet God I will ask only to change my sex and not my parents."

Copyright © MADHUPRIYA SHANMUGAM | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
All brides are lovely on their wedding day.
But she glows with her upswept auburn hair,
and her blue eyes sparkling under her veil.
He steps back and takes a mental snapshot.
He never wants to forget this moment.
She looks one last time at her reflection,
and with a deep breath, calmly takes his hand.
He has happily awaited this day,  
and he has dreaded this day since her birth.
This father is filled with mixed emotions.
He smiles at his daughter with teary eyes.
She kisses his cheek as the music starts.
"Procession of Joy" echoes in his ears.
All eyes are fixed on the beautiful bride,
but his eyes watch his future son-in-law. 
He looks closely for the groom's reaction.
The nervous groom radiates with true love ~
a smile of joy as sweat beads from his brow,
and Dad smiles knowing his daughter chose well.
A father could want nothing more than this.

By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Tenth place in Narratives contest

By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, February 22, 2012
for Narrative Poetry Contest (Catie Lindsey)

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative |

You stood there beneath the taunting man on the cross
Yet you stared at the stained floor
I was walking in the dreaded aisle unnoticed by the groom
The bouquet left no petal
For the fluttering flies took them as the bell rang
But you remained unmoved.

I was there almost
I even took the veil
But instead of taking my hand
You lit the candle
Then sprinkled water
On to the glass
Then laid a rose on my breast.

Copyright © Glenn Sentes | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative |
It was New Years' Day and the rain was pouring. The plans I made for were ruined by the rain. He must have noticed I was cold because I felt his silky leather jacket being draped across my bare shoulders. I looked over and saw him smiling at me. I caught myself blushing then looked away. Shyly I broke the silence. "I'm really sorry. I had this big day planned for us but," I paused, "I forgot to check the weather." Before I could continue blaming myself his finger tips led my face perfect plush lips. When we kissed, it was like Heaven on Earth. He told me something I'll never forget. Kneeling down on one knee, he looked up and grabbed my hand. The words still play like a song in my head. "Will you marry me?" Tears poured down my face. I was so excited the words got stuck in my throat. So I nodded instead. He picked me up, spun me around, then we kissed. There was so much passion we felt the sparks between our closed lips. This was truly the perfect day.

Copyright © Gwendolyn Coffey | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
To my love,
Do you remember all of this?
A casual night, to party, that ended with a kiss.
June 19 two thousand and twelve,
the night our very first kiss was held.
We continued a friendship, although here and there
We would hold hands, look at each other, and stare
The love was there, it had been always
We were not yet ready, to ditch our single days
So we continued on, no rules, no pressure 
As friends, with some benefits, some would tell ya
Nights would start out, with fun in mind
By the end of it though, I'd have your hand in mine
Very drunken nights, you would proclaim
This is my girlfriend, but by morning that would change
When we would rise, we would pretend
The night was just fun, and I was merely a friend
By November twenty thirteen, I had had enough
I took a chance, and I called your bluff
You didn't say yes, you didn't say no
I didn't bring it up again, I just let it go
Dec 5, two thousand thirteen
We were dates to a party, with a holiday theme
It took some time, but you came around
Jan 25, you decided to be locked down
I tried not giggle, as I thought FINALLY!
He does want to spend the rest of his life with me.
Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months,
We were head over heels, everyone had a hunch
Dec 5, two thousand fourteen
You made a proposal, and I agreed
March 11, we went downtown to get our paper work started
We did not expect to be wed, before we departed
We signed the papers right there, that day
But I wanted to do it, the old fashioned way
So on July 10, among family and friends
We shared words and a kiss, once again
This time was special, I wore a big poofy dress 
It was our family and friends, who bore witness 
I am so happy that you are my king.
With love from your wife, your best friend, your queen.

Copyright © Kathleena Hurd | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative | is my wedding day
honestly I'm surprised, caught off guard
this moment is actually here so fast, too fast
Wasn't just yesterday, your hand in mine
watching the sunset fall asleep
with your head on my shoulder 
my thoughts wandering, 
'we're getting older yet we're still young just the same'
as you whisper in my ear
'What a perfect ending to this day.' is my wedding day
I'm beyond nervous and my selective amnesia has subdued
what was I trying to say
was it how I felt the first day I met her
or was it my meteoric rise as a moon
caught in her gravitational pull, a planet
I've seen the movies so forgive me for doubting
but still I wonder if she will approach me
looking like a model, stunningly breathtaking
in a flowing white dress, her father in tow
Would he give her away to me in faith
trust I would love her always
So here I stand upon an alter
upon a throne I'm not worthy of
awaiting her approach, shaking and trembling
and her answer, I'm still pondering what it could be
My awaiting answer is greeted with my awaiting bride
with her hair covering up her eye, coming up the aisle
she's completely perfect, this is so worth it
as her hands are interlocked with mine
The preacher's repeating his prepared script
but I'm taking in her elegance
why do I feel so irrelevant, is it due to arrogance
I can't think of it now, it's time for the vows
Ladies first and I'm hanging on her every word
now I know what I need to say
'Your voice is the soundtrack to all our summers
can your voice be the soundtrack be the soundtrack to my life
Looking in your eyes, take my hand
there's a world I need to know
a whole new world I know will only get better
You are the best thing in my life
I love you forever and always
so please say I do and be my wife'

Copyright © Crow thepoet | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
~The Beautiful Hands of the Bridegroom(A true story)
   "Imagine a lovely garden, tea for two, and this story . . . "

~My grandmother called me one day disturbed  by a recurring open vision, 
  saying, “Two beautiful hands were let down unto me from the ceiling. 
  “What does it mean? I keep seeing these hands every night after 
   I lie down in bed.” 

~Immediately, I knew the answer.  I said, grandma, the left hand has 
   a wedding ring, on the left finger, does it not? A brief silence on the 
   other end of the phone, “Why yes John it sure does, now that you 
   mention it. It is the most beautiful wedding ring that I have ever seen.” 
   To which I replied, “Granny, it is your Lord assuring you that He is your 
   spiritual husband. Do not be sad when He comes to take you home“ 
   I reassured my eighty year old grandmother. She said, ”Yes that is exactly 
   what it means. I had not thought of that.” 

~This was a divinely granted clear plan given to my granny afterwards 
   she was never frightened of death again. 

~A few days later, my expression of principle said,” One day soon I will 
   awaken your granny New in the night and tell her to go into the living 
   room and sit on the couch, for it will be the time that I will take her 
   soul home with me. 

~About eight months later the shuttle truck for the elderly stopped at 
   my granny’s door one morning to take her into town for dinner with her 
   friends. She did not answer the door. The body could be seen through 
   the window, sitting upright on the couch hands folded in lap with head 
   leant to one side as if asleep. The fully clad body wore house shoes... 
   This was the adoption of my dear granny… Martha New.

Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative |
I went to my cousin's wedding, she married an Italian. The wedding was in a huge church with a thousand stairs, or so it seemed. Anyways, while in the church, it rained, it was not just rain but a torrential downpour . . . Okay, so try to get down a thousand steps without tripping, wearing high heels in the rain . . . She had wanted an outdoor wedding. "No problem," said Dad. Canopy tents covered the backyard of a nice catered affair. The garage was the bar, tables set so elegant. It was nice, except for the storm, that refused to go away, in fact got worse. I will never forget the bride and groom at the head table, trying to smile while holding an umbrella . . . But, guess what, I don't think it mattered because, they were in love . . .
______________________ August 29, 2012 Narrative/Because They Were In Love Copyright Protected, ID 417049 Written for the contest, My Cousin's Wedding Sponsored by Joann Grisette Third Place _______________________ Featured poem week of September 9, 2014

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative |
Yesterday was a promise
Till death do us part
That wedding kiss
Was my favorite part.

So we had last night
A memorable one
We made romantic love
So we became one.

I woke up this morning
With your unforgettable kiss
Prepared breakfast
With two cups of tea.

You went outside
To freshen yourself
Heard a bang in street
I was out of myself.

Saw you lying
On a dusty floor
Blood was everywhere
Scream was all around.

Unbelievably sad
I’m alone again
You left me too fast
How tragic is our end.

Copyright © Lei Strauss | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
Solving the Problem of Wedding Gifts

By Elton Camp

How I sympathize with the dilemma of a couple planning a wedding!   The stinginess of some who are invited is simply incredible.  They seem to think that some worthless gift or small amount of cash is perfectly acceptable.  Do they not realize how expensive weddings have become!  At the very least, each guest should pay his or her pro rata share of the cost of the wedding and reception.  To do less is not only rude, but is stealing from the newly-married couple, especially since the marriage may not last and each will have the expense all over again the next time.  

The bare minimum should be a gift costing over $300 or the equivalent amount in cash.  If both husband and wife attend, the expected minimum goes to $500.  If the guest finds money short, there are payday loan establishments aplenty and a cash advance on one’s credit card is another viable option.  In the case of older persons, their Social Security check can be endorsed and presented to the couple.  If a boxed gift is given, it should come only from the bridal registry.  “It’s the thought that counts,” is an outdated idea.

Making matters unacceptably awkward for the couple is not knowing what each one will give until it is too late to do anything about it.  By the time they see a paltry thirty dollar gift, the parasite has already eaten their food and taken up a seat that could have been occupied with more profit by another person.  Accordingly, I recommend for adoption a new way of dealing with this delicate matter.  

Admission to a wedding should be only by tickets paid in advance by each guest.  To accommodate the financial limitations that some may claim, the tickets should be priced in increments, beginning with $300 and then in $50 steps after that.  The ticket will be mailed to the guest, already attached to a lanyard for hanging around the neck with the attendees’ name and the amount paid prominently displayed.  Then seating at the ceremony and at the reception should be front-to-back with the tightwads receiving the most remote seats and being served last at the reception if anything is left after the more courteous guests have been tended to.  This is entirely reasonable and fair to all concerned.  

Another advantage of this arrangement is that the ticket can serve as a “thank you” note, eliminating much trouble to the couple and effectively shutting the mouths of those who carp about not receiving them.  

Lest I be accused of mercenary motives in making this proposal, let me make it clear that I am already married and have no prospects for profiting from its adoption.  

Copyright © Elton Camp | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
It’s called my inspiration
Your a beautiful soul
My inspiration
A beautiful soul
My intimidation
Just a beautiful soul
You Are……..beautiful

I see you in many lights
More than I can think off
I just want everything to be right
Just blessing pouring from above
Give to me some of that youthful look
Make me feel, 21 plus 365, 24, 60’s
Of ever bit of your being
Help me relax by whispering into my ear
Melodies from ur experience of those 21+ yrs

It’s called my inspiration
Your a beautiful soul
My inspiration
A beautiful soul
My intimidation
Just a beautiful soul
You Are……..beautiful

Release all of that stored energy
In the grips of my being
Relate with my groove
Feel my mood
Effortlessly, caressing my mind
For the span, of both our lifetimes
Grab a hold and squeeze my sides
As I get my rythmn swaying from side to side

It’s called my inspiration
Your a beautiful soul
My inspiration
A beautiful soul
My intimidation
Just a beautiful soul
You Are……..beautiful

It’s hot up under hear come on and set me free
Whisper that last line you just whispered to me
Your kiss is like death
My soul is on fire
On my lips your every breath
You soothe my desire
If I’m so beautiful, relax and relate
This isn’t our first encounter, it is not our first date


It’s called my inspiration
Your a beautiful soul
My inspiration
A beautiful soul
My intimidation
Just a beautiful soul
You Are……..beautiful

It’s how you say what you say
The way your hips move
That jester you make with your lips
The way you move your head to the groove
The smell of your skin
Your persistant reminding of your own man hood
Your way of getting what you want with out asking
The love you search for that’s everlasting

A beautiful soul that’s what I see
Handsomely put together just you and me
My inspiration that’s what you are
Intimidation hangs ova me like a wound or scar
Finally love has found its way home to me
And I must say it happened beautifully

Your my inspiration!

Copyright © Milton Brown | Year Posted 2006

Details | Narrative |
I It’s Sunday morning; sun has arisen- beneath the meadows of flowers of spring. Petals of roses blown towards the sky. Then, birds are chanting at the window pane, today is a special day for her; there were bells at the hill that are ringing a sweet symphony that plays in her heart. She dance closely on the beat of the leaves, rainbows of love filled at the heaven sky. II She wears her long white gown made of satin, she’s a princess and a veil is her crown. Today was a fairy tale, bells ringing, enchanted moment to be remembered. Her eyes filled with tears, a smile in her lips. This girl is turning into a woman, to begin a brand new life with her love of a lifetime full of love and of fun. III And it just begins as she takes a vow for the man she loves in the eyes of god. Flowers shower as the moment she walks a walk to remember of her life and to be cherished with all sweet happiness. And love grows closer together for two, they kissed as they bathe in the pool of love. Cheryl Aldea For Narrative Contest ( Catie Lindsay)

Copyright © Cheryl Aldea | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative |
  She smoothed the worn out roses on the apron in her lap
lamplight mellowed roughened knuckles
as she spread out her treasures
Like Silas Marner,thumbing his golden coins
Martha gently fingered every token of her life's journey
   Some she even kissed,tenderly,reverently,recalling
some dear face,a memory,attached as surely as if it was
etched,permanently ,on her heart.
   Martha smiled,whispered,and prayed as one by one she
placed her keepsakes back in a cedar box
until she came to the one thing she always saved til last
Her wedding veil. still crinkly and alive though yellowed with time
she took it up and put it on.Stiffly she hobbled to the mirror
In the looking glass she was nineteen and aglow with love 
   Arthur stood behind her,smoothing her hair.
she turned as he lifted the veil to kiss her,
  Come my love,let's go down to dinner,he mummered in her hair
She took his arm and let him escort her to the dining room
   The reception was a great success,or so the nurses told her
as they dressed her for bed and carefully put the mischievious
veil back in the cedar box beside her bed.

Copyright © Johnette Loefgren | Year Posted 2006

Details | Narrative |
You would've labeled it a shotgun wedding,
if you'd seen how we rushed it,
snagging the license on Friday morning
and exchanging vows that same evening.

No white dress, no people-packed pews,
simply a long drive in my brother's Chevy,
from St. Louis to Morse Mill, Missouri;
that July day burned into our memories
at a hundred four degrees, no A/C, 
and a flat tire on the road to the church.

Uncle Vernon officiated 
in a less-than-five-minute ceremony. 
You mean that's it? Is this legal?
I certainly didn't feel married!
"They'll think you're pregnant," 
my mother said. No chance of that, 
with our entire courtship advanced 
solely through airmail letters.

He was marked for Japan, 
courtesy of the U. S. Air Force.
Only death or instant wedlock 
were valid pleas for allowing leave.
We hadn't clapped lips together in 10 months.
When he called, I said yes,
and we had the shotgun wedding,
without the gun.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
I once thought that I knew what happiness was like, but I was mistaken. Forwhy I have found how it does feel to be really happy, truly happy, nothing fleeting, only last night.

In the night when she came to me, in my cave made of barred windows and closed curtains, locked doors and dimming light, where is always almost dark, light shone and life flowed into me when she smiled and blissful words were said by her. A night of wonders when I sought her arm across the bed and I held her hand as she held mine, the exchange of looks was the bonding of our souls.

The intertwining of our fingers, the strength of our grasp as if to never let go, made me realize that I was no longer alone, that I have found my place, a purpose, a home inside her heart to bath forever into her soul and warmth.

As my eyelids brought dark to my sight, I have seen ourselves in the Future, together. She and I. Now, to grow old by her side is my only wish from what is left of this life, to make this glimpse of the Future a truth is what I have to live for.

When they see us, they may see two people, yet, we will be just one for we are bond to the soul. She and I. I love you.

Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Rainbow coloured camouflage

The rainbow whispered “look at me I am a cameo in abused disguise”.
"You are a beautiful mean to an end, a pot of gold awaiting where you
touch the horizon, elusive no doubt but tangible in dreams and in wishes”.

‘Faruq’ true to his name, the one who distinguishes truth from all falsehood, 
vowed to ‘Nahla’, or the drink of water, to be with her forever come rain
or shine, when the Bedouins halted for their wedding under thorn’s holy arbor.

“There will be moist earth under the sacred tree”, promised the shaman,
drank potions from ‘Ausaj’, danced, convulsed and exulted as everyone gathered 
under the ‘Sdir’ tree with the promise of sustenance and children from heaven.

It was a monkey’s wedding, glistening sun combined with sprinkles of drizzle,
but the rainbow forgot that camels and goats don’t mix with mischief-makers,
imported from modern changes of climate, greed, power and destruction.

“I have been camouflaged, misconstrued, disenfranchised, seven beautiful colours exuding disaster”. “No, you have your rightful place under the skies, warmongering nations ignore you, they exploit the fruits of the desert, relish oil of demise”.

Ear-piercing storms erupted and lightening ensued with full thunderous wrath and
the tree of life got splintered and divided, ancient reality was crushed under modern delusion.
‘Faruq’ and ‘Nahla’ could not believe that their short marriage was over, they joined their ancestors, struck by the rainbow, who had masked the power of drowning waters, looked helplessly on.

Meanwhile tanks, constructed and draped in seven deadly sins, kept their tracks
in the quick sand of glory, deceit and rape of the planet, full,evil steam ahead.

“I feel so guilty”, uttered the rainbow, “I could not display my true colours”, but the wind and the Gods replied “Not your fault, do not take the blame, when gold turns to tar”.

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |
Walking side by side with the man who beget her,
Amidst veil-cover her face unleashed magnificent smile,
Meters close but she seemed away by a mile,
She took his lead down the aisle to the Alter.

As I stood awaiting my damsel,
I forgot it was December the twenty fifth.
I forgot our union was my yuletide gift.
I forgot that the relentless chime of the Christmas bell.

A thousand of my dreams met reality,
As the church’s Christmas trees, ribbons and bells magnified,
Our bond in the space of three years had intensified,
Amidst smile and tears we took the oaths and legalized the Chemistry.

Until that Christmas I had never kissed in another’s presence.
As the minister gave the command the congregation yearned,
I saw not the damsel I had known but my wife as I unveiled,
The sensation from the meeting of our lips with gracious essence.

Copyright © Christopher Iberi | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Wedding bells rings
With all my kith and kin
Where is my engagement ring?
Oh! It dropped in the bin.

Oh!dear don't fear
They loves me lot
We will wear new clothes 
We will look fabulous both

Lightning is everywhere 
Bang bang goes in the air
It seems as I m
In some fair

With dancing guest 
I can't take rest
Garland heavy moving on my chest
They all are doing best

I m in wrath
You should hold your breath 
Don't waste my time
Eat and enjoy
Then say gud bye .

Copyright © Puja arora | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |
"Why are you looking so shocked, Mr. Wyle?" he asked.

The taxi was moving at 120 miles an hour. Mr. Wyle's
window was open. His mustache was wavy-dancing
in the wind, as he held his chest. His wife was already
assisting their daughter with the wedding gown,
and recitation of wedding vows.

"Why are you speeding this way, young man?"

"You told me you wanted to arrive at the wedding fast.
You told me you wanted some time to talk to your
daughter, before the wedding started."

Just the other day he held his daughter on his arms;
Just the other day he taught her how to walk;
Just the other day he clapped for her as she held
her spoon correctly for the first time.....

His heart couldn't handle his daughter getting married,
and the taxi moving fast as though it was hastening
the marriage.

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
i wonder, how thy earth moves
i wonder how, man decides the meaning of marriage 

is it not bound by force, is it not a core of constant acceleration, 9.8 meters per second 
is it bound by the imaginary book of rules, is it not based on core of trust, honesty, love

why shall you stay quiet in front of a lion, but behind, you fight, a fight worthy of an sultan
you lash, and spread as a cobra, but afaced with the "enemy" you are nothing more than a domestic pet!!!!!!!

then in all, my dear sir, shall you answer thy question

why must you decide the fate of marriage

is it wrong, to marry the one you love, besides the boundary of gender 
is it wrong, dear sir, is it 
that you must decide thy fate of marriage
freedom is prosperous, freedom is not limited!!!!   

Copyright © samip m. | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative |
Narrowly down the aisle
Right in from the ancient doors
Elegantly they walked in
In the nuptial knot attire

In the messiah’s mansion
Laid central securedly held
With ornamented holds of the colonnades
Gloriously dignified terrestrial footstool

Down below overlaid
Imposing array of Persian art
Suspended high above
Morning sky ceiling 

Now here they stood
Before the throne of grace
Fetishly in the nuptial ritual
I DO chorused both, TILL DEATH DO US PART

Last act, final scene
Soliloquized, masqueraded monk
Solemnly rent the joyous arena

Still as the lay of the night
To the audibility of eloquent silence 
Echoed mischievous silence mediator

Flashback faded dim of the dark days
Unveiled the unkempt the frame 
Deep beyond the soul grave 
A sure hope dashed the wall

Sprawled the bride bade farewell in coma
“JOB” stood and look lunatically
Altered the altar drama.

Copyright © ifedayo oshin | Year Posted 2005

Details | Narrative |
Let's do it now before its too late.
The more we move closer,
The more i feel it nearer.
The more it comes closer,
The more our love becomes stronger.
Than we thought, it's becoming faster.
Oh! I can't hold it any longer
coz, it's now greater
Which makes it easier.
Let's quickly do it
That we might reach its peak in season.
Time's almost up for us to be marred or left to live.
It's our only choice for it to be kept burning.
Let me touch thy tatoos
And unveil that which no man has
Ever seen. Just this once, so as to sow a seed
For here they come to mar us,
And destroy all we both worked for.

Copyright © Peter Akinjute | Year Posted 2007

Details | Narrative |
The bride and groom
decided to bake
a white icing and double chocolate
wedding cake;
never much of a cook
it was a chance the bride took
a special dish
to serve their friends
who would come and attend
flour and cocoa on the counter
soon the groom was smiling..
the room a disaster!
food was everywhere
the floor the air
even..the brides hair!
eventually the made their cake
and now a special memory 
they have to keep

Copyright © Melani Udaeta | Year Posted 2007

Details | Narrative |

The night had just begun to fall.
     I never knew you felt this way at all.
The things you said I had never heard.
     How could it hurt they’re only words.
These words had teeth and a painful bite.
     And the way she used them was to her delight.
Spouting such painful and hurtful things.
     As I looked at her I envisioned fangs.
The words she used would make a sailor turn red.
      And why did she say I wish you were dead?
What caused this fight, this lovers spat.
      I know she’ll blame me she’s good at that.
Is this what all couples go through.
      If this is love it wreaks of pooh.
Just six more days and we’ll be married a week.
       One more like today and it may be divorce I seek.
I think maybe she’s calming down her face is not quite as blue.
       Now she says she loves me, what do I do?
Well she turned out the light and gave me a kiss.
       Is this what they mean by married bliss?
Goodnight all!

Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2007

Details | Narrative |
More than a game, it was a heart from 
  a royal flush. I saw her every flaw which
told me her true hand. A slight twitch 
  in her eye told the bluff, as she tugs 
her earlobe and raises the stakes. I call
  her on the hand that would send her to
bankruptcy. She reveals a straight flush. I glance
  over my fool's hand and fold. It was only 
one heart away from a royal flush....At least
  thats what I tell my wife.

Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2007