White is not our colour.
We are not pure or virginal.
But our love is passionate
Our eyes are filled with fire –
Not the white hot pure flame,
Not the mild yellow that dances on wood,
though her eyes are as strong as trees.
Our love is red –
a deep red that burns within us
heats our hearts into one rhythm
And so her dress is red.
Her dress will not be stored away.
It hangs waiting to be worn,
gathering scents and aromas of our daily life,
basking in the warmth of our bedroom.
Sharing space with work clothes – neat and understated
hanging close to casual sweaters and relaxed trousers.
The beadwork dancing and sparkling
occasionally revealing memories
sewn into our minds.
She does not hide our love.
All our family knows. Even her mother.
There is no waiting for this dress to be shown.
Our love – a revelation to all
as this dress flows outward in pattern and skirt.
Wendy’s wedding dress is not a secret that is hidden in our household.
It was not for my eyes.
A tradition followed through (one of several, I tell you)
But I caught glimpses of it. And I know its history.
From its source to it’s recreation
A renovation if you will
Like any wedding is life’s renewal.
The dress was once my mother’s
Her blood runs its legacy in my veins.
A foundation of myself that I reinforced in my youth.
A floor paved with education and duty –
A duty to my heritage.
But love is ignorant of heritage
even though love builds it.
And love is cruel to expectation
My imagined path is imagined.
My real path – the path of love –
Wendy’s wedding dress – and Wendy.
“Come and get me!” she calls out
wearing that red dress.
Barely do I have time to admire that dress
then I am called to her arms.
But what time I have confirms my love
Re-affirms my choice.
She is strong, and loving.
She needs me. She gives to me.
I saw that when she stepped out.
I saw the red dress – a flag of our love
And her – the embodiment of my dreams,
She wipes my doubts with her looks.
“Come and get me!” she calls
Waiting for my steady hand
so that we can face our future together.
With laughter, with passion,
Wendy’s wedding dress –
We were joined in our hearts
long before that dress was even ours.
Simon Lenthen c 25 June 2000