Wedding Poem
I wrote this poem for my daughter Elizabeth and her husband, Scott, and read it at their wedding last weekend. It is a pastoral poem. I couldn’t find anything to read, despite ransacking my library, and these lines popped into my head. Why not follow the trail, i thought. This is the result. I really post it here because people wanted to see it. And because this is where I publish my poetry. If it suits your taste, feel free to use it at your wedding, reader. Let me know how it goes.
For our part, we had a beautiful day, perfect an every respect. The ceremony took place on a lawn, with a view of Seneca Lake. The sun was low in the sky, it was hot, but with a breeze. Elizabeth and Scott were radiant. I felt as happy as I have ever been in my life.
FOR ELIZABETH AND SCOTT ON THEIR WEDDING DAY
a pastoral
because I love you both and see
beyond this afternoon, beyond the past
the things that should be
that we together, this family
are constellations of your love
by love did your voice grow
from cries to words,
the light and water of the heart
the earth of our desire
and aspiration beyond the hour
upon the words you utter now
lives are built, breath by breath
they are the soil that receives and gives
and may my blessings go as seeds
into that ground and may a father’s
wishes for his daughter’s day
grow tall as these vermillion sunflowers
and stand as long as this lake’s water
may we together build a tower
words and love for bricks and mortar
and fill its halls with veils of laughter
and surround its walls for ever after
with lawns and flowers and the sounds
of children weaving wedding crowns
yes, children weaving….and so are the grandchildren here…that tower exists in n dimensions…still it’s very good to see these rites of passage so well done…poetry at weddings ?! good poetry ! congrats pop. how be ye ?
Hi John,
It is SO good to hear from you. I was thinking of you the other day, when Jim told me he would be in town in October, and i remembered a dinner you had that I missed, with Jim, Emily and Philip. I am well. Congrats, grandpa! And thank you for reading the poem.
Splined suns maybe; less blood, more torque? but I like where & how it goes on from then…
A long span since last we were in touch, hard to be objective & one sign of age is the magnetizing of maudlin recollection. I obviously enjoyed and liked your group, one of the truly memorable.
Some of the group’s arrival, later, in my class at the Hommocks as a band in black leather jackets was a great moment. You were there ?
News comes from time to time. I found lastbender shamelessly googling my name , touched much by your recollection. And much understanding your view.
A lot of nerve to give a book, or a batch of poems. French writers ? Objectivists ? Such disreputable folk might prove influential in unforeseen ways.