Unsteadily he walks down the linen aisle
On his right arm the pride and joy of his life,
Proud he is, you can see it in his broad smile
A young man at the altar will make her his wife.
Sounds of the Wedding March reverberate
Around the walls of the old, ornate cathedral,
And the priest stands tall, ready to officiate
The papers have been signed, and it’s all legal.
He glances out the corner of his eye and sees
The mother-of-the-bride seated near the front,
She’s the most beautiful lady present, if you please,
Since the day they stood at the baptismal font.
written January 26, 2022
Best man, maid of honor,
Father of the bride.
Toss the bouquet and the garter,
Groomsmen on the side.
In-laws, photographers, caterers…
Don’t forget to tip the waiters.
DJ stage, reception hall,
Gold bands, first dance, pillar to post….
And now a toast:
Here’s to prideful selfishness and petty vanities.
Those rocks and shoals can wreck your ship.
Suspicions will harbor resentment
And threaten your future contentment.
Be careful as you navigate your way.
Here’s to unresolved childhood issues
And deep-seated jealousies.
They can sabotage your happiness
And lead to endless miseries.
Beware these hidden dangers every day.
Here’s to poor communication
And a lack of empathy.
Emotional projections
That highlight imperfections…
The disrespect that only leads to tears.
Here’s to blissfulness and diligence,
Tolerance and vigilance,
Wedding rings and lovers’ knots,
Champagne and caveats.
Cheers!
Looming bells;
Celebrating marriage and love
Channelling flowers;
Overlooking for the bride;
From a distant you can smell her;
Aromatic like oracle flowers;
She walks softly and quietly;
Celebrating marriage and love
Flowers surround and hang surrounds them;
Bride to be and her groom;
Standing in a row the bride-man/groom alongside him his best man;
Flowers fold outside wedding blossoms claps;
Father of the bride sheds tears,
Celebrating marriage and love
He stumbles yet says something blew in his eyes;
As the organist plays here comes the bride...
8/13/19
written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2019
(after Robert Desnos)
I spit in the eye
of the father of the bride
of the blacksmith who made the axe
with which the lumberjacks
cut down the big old oak
with a hundred lusty strokes
and which they split in half
and from which the bed was carved
(with a swag of fruit and leaves)
in which the fellow was conceived
who became the great-grandfather
of the guy with the massage parlor
where, provocatively clad,
your mother met your dad.
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)
When I was little, I didn't know what to do
When my protector was a monster and that person was you
I held in the secret everyday at school
Pretending everything was alright and everything was cool
Now I'm all grown up, and its supposed to be my day
I'm thinking about my future and how I'll do it a different way
By learning to trust and honor, this guy who is to marry me
Scared to confide, and scared to love, not knowing I was taught to be
My husband to be is trying not to build strife
When I'll be in therapy for the duration of my life
Everytime I close my eyes to sleep
I listen for the door to creek...
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