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written by: Cindy Medina
@Cindy_M65
A lavish spray of floral fireworks
doth obscure thy pallid hands
Chaste veil of fine lace beset by
sparkling gems adorns thy head
Regally clad in milky satin gaily
o'er-run by pearls and velvet bows
June's bride doth no more bask in
sunshine nor play upon the green
Attended by low-lit candles, not maids
melancholy strains, not jaunty organ notes
Somberly swung incense is now thy only
perfume, mingling with sad tears
Thy peaceful face like unto an angel's,
framed by satin and cherry wood.
Cindy Medina
Cindy is a published poet who writes an average of one poem per day. She's also written five novel-length stories, is working on two others, and hopes to be an author very soon. Cindy resides in the Desert Southwest of USA with D, her husband since 1993.
Latest posts by Cindy Medina (see all)
- For Virgil - June 23, 2020
- Lost… So Lost - March 10, 2020
- Blue Ginger - January 17, 2020
