Unsure of the wisdom of getting married that day,
the young woman stood in the garden
of her groom-to-be.
Rarely entirely confident of any big decisions,
she trembled underneath
her beautiful white sequinned wedding gown.
She pondered and pondered,
but anything bad that entered her mind
had barely any weight
compared with all the good of the man she loved!
Suddenly her gaze fell upon the rose bush.
Although it was early November,
one passionately red rose still bloomed there,
tall and poised – ready for romance!
As if by fate, a brilliantly red cardinal
alighted nearby the rose and cocked his tiny head at her
as if mocking her for her foolhardiness.
She recalled that seeing a cardinal meant good fortune,
Smiling then, she turned enthusiastically,
headed for wedded bliss.
Jan. 6, 2023
For Brian Strand's the 'SECOND CHANCE ' Poetry Contest
BED ESCAPE.
It was at dawn,
She can recall vividly,
She was on her own,
Shedding tears secretly,
At her young unripe age,
Hers was due marriage.
Men voices could be heard,
Full of laughter and joy,
Some arguing loudly,
In abid to increase herd size,
After in a while,they agree,
Ooh,someone got a wife.
In the room,she is worried,
No more studies for her,
Her ambitions,aborted,
Her future darkened,
Leave alone child bearing,
With an immature pelvis.
She recalls Mother Pacifica,
How girls got saved through her,
She opened the window,
Slowly she climbed,
One..two..three..Hurray!,
Out at last,she fled.
Where is she,her dad asked,
Look for her,said the groom to be,
They tried,but in vain,
She had reached her salvation,
The bed of torture,pain was gone,
Thank you God,she sighed with relief
Ye guys/gals, drama requiring attention spins in Legerdemain.
There dwells within the caves of Underhill,
a legendary leprechaun lass named Phyll.
She keeps a pet dragon with wings of three;
she’s named her Levi for Leviathan.
Levi often flies to the Yggdrasil tree,
mythical place where legends can be spun.
Ye guys/gals, dialog reveals awesome secrets in Legerdemain.
"Haven't seen you in awhile, have some kvass?
"Phyll, I managed a meeting with the brass -
Queen Ledger from the domain of dragons.
By spring I'll bring home her son as my groom."
At these words, Phyll lifted her flagon,
to share toasts with Levi and lift her own gloom.
Ye guys/gals, dreams really are special in Legerdemain.
Winter has passed, neath the cucumber tree
Wonder! Phyll has found her own groom-to-be,
a fully attractive, leprechaun guy.
To the legendary lair sans delay
"dragons and leprechauns, we gotta fly
time to see the queen, it’s spring wedding day."
Ye guys/gals, discourse returns after summer in Legerdemain.
written May 14, 2017
Princess, princess, please calm down,
Wear your diamond, glory crown.
I’ll make you queen, someday, you’ll see,
As long as you will marry me.
Princess, princess, don’t hate me,
I only wish that you could see.
That I love you with all my heart,
I wish that we will never part.
Princess, princess, don’t you die,
I promise you, I’ll never lie.
Stay with me through life and death,
And please don’t ever hold your breathe.
Princess, princess, don’t you cry,
I will never say goodbye.
It hurts too much to leave your side,
Like all of me has stopped and died.
Princess, princess, don’t you see,
I’m your prince, and groom to be.
Forever together, and never apart,
I give you my all, and even my heart.
Someday I want to be the Bride
So my lucky charm will be holding my hand
Someday I want to wear the white dress
So everybody will be watching me without rest
Someday I want to get married to the man that i really love
It's not just a wish, It's a big excitement that fills my life
I want to wear the dress and hold these roses
And wear the diamond ring that he chooses
I want my groom to be true and real
Who takes care of me, who understands what i feel
I want to be as great as he is
Stand by him, protect him as he does
Someday when I marry the man I love
He will be my husband,my friend, my other half
Someday when I be the Bride of my charming groom
I will be showing him this sappy poem on the honey moon
A little befuddled bride could be heard crying on the hillside.
She huddled near a very brittle tree.
Muddling over the belittlement of her groom to be.
She ruddled her hair with anger.
Her piddling wasn’t solving anything.
She straddled her mare and took off in a gallop.
Twiddling her way down the hillside.
The gallop slowed to a trot.
As the mare entered the country road.
She veered the mare from a puddle of mud.
Trotting to the stables with her head hung high.
Why should I show shame when I am not the blame.
It is the groom who dishonored me not my fame.
That’s my blast from the past.
He’s my blast into the future.
When I become his little befuddled bride.