Tuesday, January 22, 2008

The Morning Bride

The trousseau well fitted and tried;
For the morning bride,
Her hands lay bare the finest art;
Silently following the dawn,
She shall depart.

Myriad dreams hem in her heart;
Bashful lashes conceal that spark;
For she traverses thy threshold,
With memoirs warm and old.
Abandoning behind an era,
In anticipation of a lifetime.

The bride enlightens her new abode,
Countering a new hope; on a new road;
Timid and fretful, she reclines;
Awaiting the promises to turn divine;
Dire thoughts grasp her by the hand;
Hauling towards a tormented land.

Over the decades;
The beauty fades and hope tires
A mortal remains; the bride retires,
Becomes a mother, a daughter, a wife,
Wanders through varied stages in her life,
With each year that follows;
She retrospect’s the hollows;
But all she recalls is a smoldering dream;
Searing from her bejeweled palanquin.
As the world craftily ignited;
Her maiden desire,
Decades ago, on her nuptial pyre.

No comments: