On a Sunday morning we met, flowers in hands, ready.
His eyes wide open, sweet smile.
Oh, those early stages.
From kisses under the streetlights
To long night talks, “us” was all we needed.
Try to fall in love, I once heard a film star say,
But only with the kind of love that’s peculiar in a way.
Spend time searching high and low, next to no time to delay,
For true love never lingers; ready to lead your heart astray.
‘I’m getting married in the morning’,
He shouted the night before the big day.
‘I’m getting married in the morning’,
She screamed the night before her father gave her away.
French exits at the party
Catching your eye and your smile across the room
French kisses at the bus stop
With my hands in your pockets and your fingers in my hair
True love gathers us here today,
To see a wife become what was once a fiancé,
For a lifetime of promises,
The congregation choruses,
Which one of us will catch the bouquet?
