Does Pride Ooze From His Eyes
Silver and glitz,
Satin and gold,
Place oozes with joy,
A pearl-laden crowd.
Four men standing.
Grinning like half-eaten moon pies
One holy man, somber and straight.
A fancy woman walks in escorted by her son.
Three chorus girls make their descent, in matching dresses.
A little pink-laden girl with fancy petticoats prances past,
Dragging an uneager pouty boy along.
The crowd murmurs, softly.
The long anticipated song begins.
Everyone stands.
Turns.
Hoping to have a glimpse of the veil-clad princess
Who is hanging on to the suit of her father.
Not me.
I always turn and look at the groom.
That’s the real show.
Are his cheeks alcoholic red?
Does he look like he’s ready to hurl?
Or is he bright-eyed, and bushy-tailed?
Does pride ooze from his eyes as he watches his bride?
This tells me so much about what kind of
Life she will have after the
Big day.
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