She was at the base of those stairs,
Resplendent in her flowing gown and lovely jewels,
She looked like a bohemian bride.
Night spread its wings and flew over the church,
A gentle breeze hugged her gown
and few petals fell from her crown.
Their eyes met but rarely spoke,
Frozen air weighed gravity
of the space they breathed,
of the past they lost.
Cold moon listened as his voice grew fainter;
“You do not belong to me anymore”.
She peered through the window
And fell in love with the setting sky.
Tears ran down through golden curls,
Her wedding wreath with acorns of green,
Array of lavender, honeysuckles and daisies fell,
As she craved for bulbs of those Aloha roses,
Down from the valleys of his garden.
At the back of her flower crown,
A fine white veil breeze down the aisle of pain,
As her white flowers
Intertwined with pearls of Nizams,
so subtle and delicate, fell on his feet,
He wept on the bed of autumn,
Of her wedding wreath,
Leaving the lasting spring,
To the frozen winter.
