Wednesday, July 20, 2011


The white of her dress
Contrasted against the dark browns
Of the stair case.
To me she appeared
To be gliding up the stairs,
An exquisite ghost
That enthralled me
Instead of scaring me.

This was my bride,
The woman who I gave
My heart to and who
I will be giving my life.

I should not be seeing her
Before the ceremony,
Bad luck, they say,
But I could not look away.
I could not slip back
Into my room
And finish getting read.
I stood at the rail
And stared.

Unexpectedly, she looked back,
Catching me gawking at her.
A wave of irritation crossed her face
And before it froze in place,
It melted away
As she registered the love
That was plastered across my face.

I wanted to run down the stairs
And kiss her hungrily.

I wanted to steal her
Into my room and make
Passionate, sweet love.

I wanted to hold on to her
And never let go.

A warm smile blossomed
On her face and she mouthed
“After the ceremony,
Go and get ready.”

With that promise,
I slipped back in my room
And got ready
To start a new life
With the woman
Who kept her promises.

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