Her bridegroom stood at the alter,
Waiting impatiently for her there.
Perfume filling the churches air,
From bouquets of roses everywhere.
The dress she wore was cream,
Made of antique lace a mothers dream.
Her was braided and wound,
On top of her head in a golden crown.
Her eyes held teardrops like pearls,
Carrying their own bright light swirls.
Gracing her face was a brilliant smile,
As she stood looking up the aisle.
A garland of roses and pearls,
Graced her glowing hair in swirls.
Roses and pearls graced her bouquet,
As she walked down the aisle that day.
Originally Posted On Site: 2007-09-01 10:33:28
Last Login: 04.18.09
Visits as of 12-12-07: 506
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