YRKB
10-25-2011, 06:24 AM
The bride will not come to the door to hear
What her groom-to-be's anxious to say
When again he knocks and starts speaking, throat clear
The mellifluous voice calls him away
'What, pretty moon face, has made you so cruel -
So cunning
So wicked
So cold?'
He weeps and he snaps
And almost goes back
But then comes her answer, in bold:
'Today, tall and winsome, though I am your bride
Who you've won
With your charm
And fine airs,
I've seen grander pieces
Adorning the nieces
Of your most distant-relations
outside on the stairs.'
'My mother's trousseau looks fit for a maid
In light of the jewellery I've seen
And I will not leave this room and be shamed
In a way most uncivil and obscene.'
The groom turns to his mother
Who turns to her own
Who turns to another
'Til to all it is known
Sadly, but swiftly they pull from their throats
The gems and sapphires they love
And wrapped in the groom-to-be's father's great coat
Through the crack of the door they are shoved
From inside just silence, and then a small sigh
Before comes a tinkling laugh
And at once the young bride appears by and by
Ready to see to the task.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown
What her groom-to-be's anxious to say
When again he knocks and starts speaking, throat clear
The mellifluous voice calls him away
'What, pretty moon face, has made you so cruel -
So cunning
So wicked
So cold?'
He weeps and he snaps
And almost goes back
But then comes her answer, in bold:
'Today, tall and winsome, though I am your bride
Who you've won
With your charm
And fine airs,
I've seen grander pieces
Adorning the nieces
Of your most distant-relations
outside on the stairs.'
'My mother's trousseau looks fit for a maid
In light of the jewellery I've seen
And I will not leave this room and be shamed
In a way most uncivil and obscene.'
The groom turns to his mother
Who turns to her own
Who turns to another
'Til to all it is known
Sadly, but swiftly they pull from their throats
The gems and sapphires they love
And wrapped in the groom-to-be's father's great coat
Through the crack of the door they are shoved
From inside just silence, and then a small sigh
Before comes a tinkling laugh
And at once the young bride appears by and by
Ready to see to the task.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown