Kolkata, and we stop there for a while
and think of parting as we have to wait
(a separation of five thousand miles)
to get visa from the consulate.

They question, poke, requiring photos,
to test if we are honest and don't lie.
They want to know we’re true, and not a pose,
and so they start their bureaucratic pry.

How did our wedding come about, are we
devoted to each other, yes they see
the candor, certitude, veracity.
We get her visa straight away, we’re free.

Then book her flight, we’re on our way to Wales,
the land of song, of rain and winter gales.