A carriage under torch light goes
in darkest, star naught night
Irish plaids warmth, admired
in widened eyes, of light
hunger wells within my soul
suspiration of innocence,
shoulders rest against his chest
my clans made shawl, my best
In the wash of winter’s welcome
where snowflakes fall anew
abreast a world of wonder
of this husband, something new
A day of nuptial blessings,
In his church a kiss bestowed
under a bough, a ring, a pledge
to be bedded by him, I glow
comfort be his only wish
for today and evermore
I will please husband aplenty,
his faith I shall restore
as I say a pray, on the wings of a dove,
a soft whisper… my decree
Thank you my Lord above,
for gifting his sweet love to thee
A contest entry
- WE LOVED UNTIL THE MOON WAS TIRED by Swan song.
800 points, ended November 7, 8 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
-
Beautiful and so filled with rich, creative words. Sweetly conveyed.
-
simply divine!!!! a nicely written and rhymed poem overflowing with love
-
WOW
oohh my man Steven, you lucky lucky dog!!
this is a beautifully sensual and loving piece of work dedicated to him..excellent my friend...
-
You know how I love your old style classic poems, this is no exception.
With your sweet warm temperment and inner and outer beauty not a man alive would not be proud to be wed to thee.
Buddy
-
So it is that a man should leave his father and mother and with his wife become one flesh . . . but I may have said this to you before.
I keep repeating myself.
This is beautiful and full of such warmth and passion . . . it is so much YOU from times past as you rode along under starless nights, the fog lowering, the horses baying . . . a distant wolf howling. When the journey's past the warmth of hearth and home; the smell of hot linen as rocks, heated in the stove, are slipped under the coverlet . . . oak wood smoke a lingering scent on the air. The dark gathers as the fire dies down . . . with only body warmth to keep out the chill.
Beautiful. Memories of fall evenings in the downs from a time long ago . . . yet seemingly so near.
Very well done . . . good luck in the contest.
Garrison
-
Lovely rich vibrant language. Lovely work poet!
-
This is tender and beautiful, Catherine. Good luck in the contest, Sweetie. 
-
-
Thank you Wanda this indeed gifts that much needed break. I shall reference this for future posts. You are so very kind and I appreciate your thoughtfulness more than I can say...thank you again sweet friend...Catherine
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 8 of 8
