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Concatenation
We call close friends to participate
in soaring love enjoined this date:
Merging souls from energies so unique
entranced by riddles of binding gait.
To the world, we offer charitable
ways.
To our selves we prove support and
praise.
With God and you to witness wedded vows,
beginnings become sealed for remaining
days.
Sealed, but not delimited. Never
bound, nor stifled.
Together for well-being; well bred abhor
chide-filled.
Come join us for jubilation, and while
here, recall your embrace,
because marriage celebration is meant
for all to bind pride with chill.
C
Taylor, Jr.
10/10/2003
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Wedding
Night
I
have waited all my life to share this
field:
the field of fair that furrows my heart.
The moment is soon upon us. A blessed
rill
by crags of red clay bounty.
The
moment of our bloom is more than fate
will sate:
a time of solitary twine, of vines to
twist in mate
reeling from the past torn roots. Torn
roots
that made sure growth. The growth, new
shoots
of green on gray, as ours gains strength
from yesterday.
Torn,
but not uprooted, and our foliage was
trimmed true.
For through the pain of sacrifice, the
bonsai comes in view.
The Hort’ist had a vision. Good toil
made dream come through.
The distortions of our past create a
beauty touched by few.
Touched
by few, but passed by plenty who did not
understand;
a stream is mired by most who tread, but
flowing, clears again.
C
Taylor, Jr.
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Precious
Gift
Oh
my love, tonight I wonder
Though my worry will cause blunder.
Will we share another decade?
Or, will time call one away.
I
fear not the great foretold
For it is promised: streets of gold.
But, I languish in the thought
Of left or leaving, half fraught.
Till
our end, I vow anew
Acts of kindness we will do.
And an endless untamed schedule
Will no longer be our rule.
When
the two enjoined as one,
A curious new life had begun.
With real fervor, bride and groom
Mature to tapestry by life’s loom.
While
short time most wile away,
We will bless, again, each day.
Never wasting precious moment,
Pray this union from all torment.
Heart
in hand we’ll still discover
Hopping toads and birds in cover.
Sweetest pleasures of each morn
Are waking smiles our years have worn.
I
remember childlike laughter.
As I fall asleep, and after,
With the toil of day behind,
I rest assured; you fill my mind.
C
Taylor, Jr.
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