Not a beat is skipped
Or a doubt held within
These hearts are open
Our words are true
We hold no worries
Because we have each other
We fret at nothing
Because we know we will get through

A friend told me your news,

            They showed me a picture of your gown,
  
                                   ...

                                  You married him, wearing the necklace I gave you.

Mile after mile,
the roads unwind,
and I'm squashed in the back,
in between my siblings' behinds,
while Dad croons to oldies,
off-key and loud,
Mum traces the map,
with her head bowed.

I count the trees,
it is a quiet game,
while my brother sleeps,
my sister is tamed.
A petrol station stop
breaks the drive,
the numbers roll up,
as Dad's wallet
barely survives.

Dad fills the tank,
and Mum's stern glance falls
on the mounting cost
that widen her eyeballs.
Dad settles up
and quickly returns
with snacks that are shared,
with momentary peace,
which is soon impaired.

"Stop touching me!"
my sister cries,
as my brother grins
with mischievous eyes
and I, caught in the middle
attempt to mediate,
"Look, a cow!"
in a desperate escape.

Soon after trying
to tame the urge,
our bladders expand
fit to burst,
as bathroom plea's cry out
with a desperate will
our three voices rising
loud and shrill.

The Ross-on-Wye's sign
comes into view,
as my fingers twist
through my hair now askew.
We turn onto Junction 24,
and I look around everywhere,
my excitement building
beyond compare.

Aunty Bee's wedding day
waits ahead,
and I shamelessly have crumbs
all over my dress.
This is quickly followed
by Mum's horrified look,
as Dad pulls the car aside,
as we tumble out of the back
with smiles big and wide.

Mum brushes crumbs
from our smart attire,
and tames my hair
with her maternal fire.
My brother and Dad
turn as their eyes meet
and with perfect timing,
he asks "Are we there yet?"

Dad rolls his eyes and sighs
"Just 30 more minutes son."
I think our Dad will be glad
when this journey is done.

©️Lizzie Bevis

Red dress, modern cut, a nod to tradition.
Not gaudy, not simple, a balance found.
Her hand, offered, a father's blessing unspoken.
Pride mixed with sorrow, a future he won't see.
Love, honor, cherish, the groom's vow, a solemn oath.
Protection promised, a father's final duty.

Tears fall freely, a river of emotions.
Vows exchanged, a seal on a lifetime's journey.
The kiss, a declaration, a new chapter begins.
Then, a flutter, a swarm of butterflies descends.

One lands on her nose, a Blue-Spotted Crow, rare and bold.
Wings unfurl, a vibrant blue against her pale skin.
A message, a whisper, a father's presence felt.
She raises a finger, the butterfly shifts its perch.

A silent conversation, a daughter's tribute.
Prosperity whispered, protection assured.
Love remains, eternal, a bond unbreakable.
The Blue-Spotted Crow, a constant, enduring reminder.

The gesture, her father,
The promise, prosperity,
The honor, protection,
The Love, forever.

T'would be grim to share a life with me,
    Meets no reminisce with memory,
When on our favorite day of all,
    I'm left with nothing to recall.

Our guests arrive, the altar manned,
    I see you, your heart and your hand,
Held so close then kissed so tight,
    Receding visions of that night.

The pacts, promises that we'd taken,
    I would retain them - I'd be mistaken,
And when we both pronounce "I do",
    I won't remember - it's up to you.

My mother got married in a hand stitched dress
that each of her four sisters contributed a  
piece of their souls into the embroidered lace:
a skein of swans in perfect v formation
flew up her left sleeve, doves fluttered down
her right, peacock trains fanned cardioid eyes
of the most luminous white across her torso and
bluebirds hermitaged in the ivory lines of her back.
And since, they knew from experience that men  
are fickle- each secretly sewed coins and jewels
into the hem, for the inevitable day when her
children would scream too loud in his ears and he
will see only her fat and leave like a wolf in the night.

Wish you a very happy married life
Sure am I, that you will make a great wife
Because I know you very well
You are a **** good girl
Very intelligent and hardworking
Very warm, friendly and caring
Almost nothing, do you lack
Even assuming I am not cutting you slack!

Wish you a very happy married life
Very well, do you handle strife
Extremely cool and composed
So mature and level-headed
Riddham could not have asked for a better partner
Seriously, I do not know who is luckier!!

Wish you a very happy married life
May your sorrows be extremely brief
May your cup of joy get filled to the brim
You and Riddham make a wonderful team!!

Wish you a very very happy married life
Very adventurously, may you both live
Seriously, I cannot wait for your big day
May Jesus keep all troubles at bay
Take care and meet you soon
In the meantime, may you dance under the light of the moon!!

When the halls of solitude give way to arching gardens it will all be but half-remembered when I’m blinded by your kiss, as bright as a Sunday morning sun all bundled in a fuzzy blanket when you smile like this, gentle and sweet.
You’re as steady as the tides, as consistent as night and day and I know you can already see the lines being traced for the blueprint of our home, I see our future children playing in your line of sight, just a stone’s throw down streams of time.
I know you aim to see heaven on earth, to see Jesus turn water into wine again, to see the downtrodden lifted with an upward spiraling bannister towards eternal bliss and I think that’s why your focus so rarely drifts, you’re a woman who knows the joy of excellence.
So tell me all your days, I’ll mix my love into your morning coffee and into every evening deliberation, into every small yet meaningful consideration.
There’s a drama written in our God-given oxygen, a theology in the curve of your cheek, in the movements of your soul from life to death, movements like a bow drawn along a cello purring with voices low, voices quiet with a vow. And so I make my vows.

Maybe you’ve gone with Moss Bros
Or you’ve stuck to trusty M&S
But I can point to a surer way
to ensure you’re dressed for success

No matter how long you’ve spent
Adjusting your silks and laces
No matter how hard it was
to talk him out of his lairy braces

Whether you selected a Windsor knot
Or your favourite velvet bow tie
[A bold choice, Toby.]
I can share some well-worn wisdom
By which you should always abide

I know a dress code tested by time
Simple words to which we should hold
Simple but essential for all of us here
So let’s check we’re all properly clothed

Next time you’re walking down the red carpet
And they ask, ‘Who are you wearing?’
There's no need to look for the neckline label
Don’t waste your time with checking

Every day you both put on Christ
You kit yourselves out with the King
Knowing this is all that you’ll need
For whatever the day will bring

But like royal robes or battle armour
His garments come in layers
Put them on in careful sequence
Buttoned up with tailored prayers

You begin with feather-lite Compassion
Laced with silken Kindness
It’s followed by soft Humility
A garment that’s forever timeless

You add to this tough Gentleness
That’s core to the Saviour’s style
With a lining of weighty Patience
So you can each stay versatile

You ensure the ensemble’s been well steamed
With a fierce, cleansing Forgiveness
You set the dial high enough
To remove past creases of grievance

Now, some might think this will be enough
That that is ample fussing
But there’s one remaining layer
That you know isn’t worth you rushing

Over each of these rich garments
to keep them all in place
you put on the strong bond of Love
like a long full-body embrace

Then whatever the weather or season
on each and every occasion
You can both enjoy the Peace of knowing
You’ll never need alterations
*
You may have heard it said
And with Thanks we can affirm
Some fashions do remain timeless
And this one's designed for long term

With the wedding ring

he promises his body --


to her, to serve her.