The ancient church of St James.
Lead-edged windows, each portion given stained glass faces.
Sunlight rippled on those faces, each face a tale to tell.
Sheltered from the elements, donated from above.
Safety under a covered roof of green lichen.
The bell tower shouted its cheerful peals.
Bridegroom proud. Standing in regimented battle regalia.
Epaulettes almost glowing with excitement.
Matching his shiny shoes.
As he waited for his bride that day.
To make his life complete.
He knew for now, deep in his heart.
That very soon he would depart.
Church bells rang,  excitedly, as if missing every second beat.
His heart was missing more.
Glances up.
Between the external aisle, the now laying; no longer living, brothers under standing stones.
A picture of pure innocence in her ivory wedding gown.
Promenading through the church yard to catch her wanted man.
Escorted proudly by him, by the father of the bride.
Into the church they drifted upon ethereal glow.
The vicar bade them welcome.
After hymns and prayers of three.
Holy man he gave his blessings.
Pronounced them man and wife.
As the following morning sun she rose, forbade the joys of married life.
He wanted not to wake his bride.
He left  just a bunch of flowers, mauve and blue, forget me nots.
In his heart he hoped he'd see her soon.
Before the wake of summer's moon.
For off to war he went.
Both knew he had to go.
Proud man departed for war, with rivers of silent eyes.

(C) LIVVI