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The groom sweeps pass the floor,
Like the flood does with her pride.
He matches pass the crowd like a moor,
Examining intensely while on his ride.
He flashes back the day of plan,
When he draft out the necessary file.
He readjusts his specs and span,
Bewitching the damsels with his smile.
He shoots out his lips like a pointed gun,
Directing it towards his anxious maiden.
At the order of the faithful clown,
He enjambs his lips with his charming colleen.
The chairs hops for Joy,likewise the bench.
They exhilirates their happiness and joy,
In tune with the lucky man's trench,
And elates residents like electronic toys.
A golden metal presents itself as a ring,
Straight into the bride's finger,
The two anonymous fingers cares to sling,
Causing a great applausation from the seaters.
He positions his feet as direct,
Holding unto his queen hands to hands.
They displays their style in music precept,
Grooving symtematically like the bands.



Being stressed after the lovely harsh day,
He strips off his rugged shoe and tie.
Resting on his lonely bray,
He heaves a sigh of victory; 'Bye!'.
C.2017