The blushing bride wears pink and white
without desire to break some old tradition.
Daintily she parades up the center isle,
angelic glow and radiant her smile.
Dad is walking with her now, clutched
tightly to her side.
From one hand to another, a sobbing transfer;
merchant to consumHER, he will “chance her”.
He is strong, that hungry man, yet he whispers
In her ear; “despite what is said here, to get this hitch done,
you shall honor and obey ME from rise to setting sun”!
The storybook bride, so ignorant in bliss, took this man’s vow and
empty kiss.
She thought his charm would keep them
“swinging from the rafter”, now off they go
miserably ever after!
Renee Marie
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blushing-bride/
