The Wedding

The Wedding The church is darkened and still. A candle flame is the only light. The pews are empty. A chill Runs up my spine. This night Is strange and mystery is about. I want to run from here. Everything in me wants to shout Run, run. I smell the fear. The fear is mine. The organ begins the wedding march Fear and sickness combine. My throat is parch. I need water to quench my thirst. There is only wine on the alter. Dare I drink some first, Before the two? I start then falter. Lights, first dim then bright Fill the room Vanishing my fright. Bride and groom appear suddenly out of nowhere. The minister appears Recites a prayer. The end to this wedding rite nears. They exchange vows And leave the church together. The minister bows, Picks up a white feather, And leaves through the door. Strange, I think to myself. The church is as it was before. I think I'll put this dream on the shelf. Copyright © 2005 Lunaria (Lila May Guptill)