Tag Archives: marriage











There are no unforgiving heather hills between us;
you do not roam the loamy moors calling my name
like a madman, chasing the wraith of a girl long gone.

Masefield’s sea does not separate us; you do not stand
like one of Gormley’s men, gazing at the horizon,
while I wrap myself in Pinter’s whore’s cape and wait.

You do not wander the skies in a chariot, searching for
your huntress, under the watchful gaze of the scorpion,
its eyes glittering malevolently in the amaranthine ink.

We have no use for playwrights and poets, for we have
quiet words of our own that whisper down the centuries
and anoint the Beltane ribbons that bind us in our pledge.





~  The ancient Pagan and Celtic ceremony of handfasting marks the taking of a partner.  The couple’s hands are ritually bound together to symbolize their union. Some people choose to use a ribbon that they have both signed. Between Beltane and the Summer Solstice is the most popular time for handfastings.



Posted for the wonderful  One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry




Filed under Free Verse


















No altar, no rose-scented petalled bed,

no morning suit-grey waiting to be wed.

No priest, no vows, save those we’ve mined and spun;
soft Clogau truths exchanged by candlelight.
This stolen time, as we outrun the sun,
permits us to perform this ancient rite.

A simple room, this bless’ed bridal suite,
commune, cocoon, until the morning light.
White wedding gown, a simple cotton sheet,
sweet affirmations, raptured we unite.

Our altar, this sex-scented metal bed,
we sing our Hallelujahs and are wed.




~ Clogau gold (pronounced Clog – I) is rare Welsh Gold from the Clogau gold mine in the mountains of Snowdonia.



Filed under Poetry


Beads thread along a dainty rope;

perfection for a virgin wife,

mere twist of wrist induces choke.

A bridal chest bereft of hope;

misgivings and mistrust are rife.

Beads thread along a dainty rope

placed carefully around the throat,

a fastened clasp a touch too tight,

mere twist of wrist induces choke.

Each compliment a back-hand stroke,

a bitter bourgeoisie sound bite.

Beads thread along a dainty rope

will counterpane this bed bespoke,

lip-synching to a half-lived life,

mere twist of wrist induces choke.

This matrimonial sick joke

awaiting juggernaut jack-knife.

Beads thread along a dainty rope,
mere twist of wrist induces choke.

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Filed under Villanelle