The Wedding Tale
I met a lad one summer's night,
Who spun tales of terror that gave us fright.
His heart was laden with years of dread,
For he thought his true love must surely be dead.
The lad had not glimpse upon the maiden those years so long ago,
And he feared his heart would shrivel before it would grow.
The maiden, likewise, knew not the lad I speak of,
Her heart was lost without their true love.
The years past by; one after the other,
Then one day the lad's heart began to flutter.
Words written by the maiden had reached his fine eyes,
He at once shed all thought of his dismal disguise.
By this time, the lad had grown into a fine young man,
With years of knowledge beyond his short span.
He took to his pen with a flurry of ink,
And drafted a story that would make her heart sink.
The maiden so fair, loved the tales he thusly wove,
Their souls came together one June day in a lovely little grove.
Friends came to witness from across the land,
For the Lady had taken in ceremony the Lord's mighty hand.
This poet has seen how the lovers are smitten,
And has decided to leave their adventures unwritten.
Take note of my words and heed this example,
There is someone for everyone and the world is ample.
Todd S. Jones
Dedicated to the
Lord & Lady Reichardt