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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2121785
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Contest Entry · #2121785
Promptly Potter. Day Fourteen.
The wedding bells toll though I hardly know
The groom-to-be's face from my own
We met only today before I broke my fast
The hours have been few, but we'll be married at last
My father arranged it at the beginning of my life
And now twelve years later I am to be a wife

I am desperately afraid of what may come
For I don't know he's kind, only handsome
All I can do is hope, which seems a shame
Living on hope seems like nothing but a game
But my fate is set and my destiny awaits
I'll hold my breath and pray while the men celebrate
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2121785