Behind the boxes of letters and old mementoes,
Protected by tissue paper and camphor,
Lies a dress adorned with fine lace and teardrop beads.
Every now and then, it is aired – subjected to a dog’s nosy scrutiny.
Perhaps the dog smells the bride’s horse and carriage,
Or maybe the simple meal afterwards – chicken, rice, cake and beer.
Perhaps the dog scents the bride’s tears,
Or the groom’s nervous pride and bursting heart.
Or maybe the dog senses the ink from the pen in the registry office.
Then the dress is folded and hidden behind the letters
Waiting for a summer day when she can show her dress,
And the man she loves, to her parents.
Copyright 1998 Simon Lenthen