Poem – The Bridegroom

The Bridegroom


For the wedding party

the roses have scattered their crimson petals

and the  groom in a white tuxedo stands,

hands in pockets beside his best man.


The bride’s father is the first to appear

at the French Doors that open up

to the garden with the sweeping views

of the green lawn, the pergola

adorned with white roses and the slow moving

brown river beyond


the photographer having shot the flower arrangements

and upstairs,  the smalls of various backs now focuses

on the quality of light


When the bride appears

(in a dress she made herself of

silk charmeuse and a veil of silk tulle)

a murmur of approval runs

through the assorted guests


while the bridesmaids pose beside the lavender hedges.


She is a vision!

Exclaims the groom’s mother

but her third husband is considering the river

in which catfish lie in wait.


The groom fixing an eye on his prize

wavers for a moment

under that roof of roses

unable to recall how he got there

before a Minister of Faith.


But then

his bride steps lightly onto the manicured grass

and lifting the hem of her ivory dress

reveals she is barefoot

and he remembers.








6 thoughts on “Poem – The Bridegroom

  1. Love this – it begins as one thing and turns into another – I like the way you sow a sense of discontent, of all not being right here under the sentimentality of a wedding, but even more I love that last verse, which suggests something else again.

    • Thank you so much for your comment Andrea 🙂 Yes! my goal is always to surprise (and hopefully delight) the reader. I like to think I write in a way that suggests there is a backstory and I leave it to the reader to decide on what that story is. Have a fabulous week!

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