Wedding Poem for Liam and Alethea
by Katherine Ashewode
I wrote this on the occasion of the marriage of my house-sister Alethea to Liam, mundanely Alison and Bill. My goal was to make them blush. I succeeded.
A lad and lass both tripped along,
It was a market day,
And flowers bright bespecked the grass
As one and then the next would pass
All in the month of May.
The girl was first to reach the square,
The boy took second place,
Though they had never met before
His heart was fired to the core
To look upon her face.
He knew that she must be his bride
But didn't know her name.
He brushed his coat and fixed his hat
And came beside the place she sat
To start the courtship game.
The boy, whose friends all called him Bill,
He made a little noise.
His best beloved raised her chin
And barely hid a joyous grin
And scarcely held her poise.
For Bill was not an ugly man,
As quickly she bespied,
And just as sure as he was struck
Now her heart, too, had run amuck,
She longed to be his bride.
But such a thing just would not do,
Despite her longing swoon,
It wasn't proper, folk would say,
That lovebirds met in month of May
Should marry off in June.
And so she kept her eyes turned down,
Which filled the man with dread,
But Bill determined just the same
To ask the girl to speak her name,
"I'm Allison," she said.
"Oh Allison," the laddie breathed,
He knelt down by her side,
"I love you now and evermore,
Though we have never met before,
Oh, won't you be my bride?"
Now Allison felt her pulse leap
For she was not alone,
But still she kept her eyes downcast,
As every pregnant moment passed
She heard her heartstrings groan.
"It cannot be," she told the man,
"Such things are just not right.
But if you take a quest for me
To prove your love for all to see,
I'll have you day and night."
"For you, my love, I'll gladly run
Through fire and through hail.
And you need only name your quest,
For I am sure I'll pass the test,
My love shall certe prevail."
Then Allison bespoke again,
"This task I you impart:
Go and find a song to sing,
And find also a golden ring,
Both worth your lover's heart."
Bill, he bowed a somber head
And left his love in shame.
He knew if he were bard or king
He'd never find a song or ring
To match his lover's flame.
He knew that he must overcome
And so he ventured forth.
He searched from east to west and back
On beaten roads and hidden tracks
To earn his lover's worth.
Though days and weeks and months had passed
His quest remained unfilled,
And Bill was verging on defeat
Although his lover's heart still beat,
His hopes were growing chill.
But once as he was deep in thought
He spied a lowly hut.
Along a forest path it stood,
All mossy logs and rotting wood,
Its doors and windows shut.
But Bill felt pulled to go inside,
He pressed upon the door,
And there within he saw a crone,
With wrinkled skin and brittle bone,
A threadbare dress she wore.
"Young man," she said, "why come you here,
Disturb my peaceful rest?"
And Bill, as he had many times,
Explained with reason and with rhymes
The nature of his quest.
"You see," he finished to the hag,
"She'll never be my bride,
For long I've searched and never seen
A golden ring with worthy sheen,
Though I have dearly tried."
"Oho!" replied the withered face,
"I see your love is pure,
And I will give a gift to you
To show your love your heart is true,
She'll marry you for sure."
The crone retrieved a wooden box
As old and worn as she,
And from within she took a ring,
It was a dull and ugly thing,
She passed it on with glee.
But Bill's heart railed as he bespied
The tarnished, rusted band,
"It's barely fitting for a sheep,
And Allison would surely weep
To see it grace her hand."
Not so," the wizened crone replied,
"It is a kingly prize.
For though it seems a penny's worth,
It's far more precious on this Earth
To those whose hearts are wise.
"For I will pair it with a song,
And then you'll see I'm right.
The ring reflects the wearer's mind
Whene're it hears the chorus chimed:
For love, it shimmers bright."
Now Bill had travelled far and wide
For many years he'd roamed,
But yet his quest had come to naught
Until he came to this one spot.
He chose to trust the crone.
And so he took the song and ring
And halting bade adieu.
He made his way through dale and glen
Until he came to town again
In time for a market new.
And Allison was there again,
A maiden's circlet wore,
Bill fell before her on a knee
And raised his hand for her to see
The tarnished ring he bore.
Now Allison had waited long
For fate to bring Bill home,
But yet the ring he offered forth
Was scarcely more a pittance' worth,
She barely hid her groan.
But yet her love was true in course,
She could not see him spurned.
So out she held her dainty hand
And so received the rusty band
As disappointment churned.
'Twas then that Bill produced the song
And softly sang its words.
His heart was full of lover's heat,
And her as well began to beat
Enraptured by his words.
The ring upon her finger slight,
Though tarnished it had been,
Grew brighter with her every swoon
And quick outshone the sun at noon,
Her fire clearly seen.
The sign was plain for all about,
This love was meant to be,
And in his mind Bill thanked the crone
Who made his true love's ardour known
For all the world to see.
And Bill once more asked Allison
To be his blushing bride,
And she with crimson cheeks did say
She'd marry him that very day,
To church they quickly hied.
What more to say, you see the proof,
It happened as I said.
For there upon her finger shines
The ring that Bill was meant to find,
And now they're happ'ly wed.
Epilogue
But now I pause and take it back,
I must admit I lied:
When Bill produced the lover's tune
She didn't faint and didn't swoon,
In fact, she nearly cried.
For though Bill had a comely face,
His voice, it didn't fit,
And though he sang with all his heart,
It seemed that glass would break apart
And dainty ears would split.
But Bill did not despair at all
To see the lady's plight,
For he had learned another way
To make her heart glow bright as day,
And so set things aright.
He didn't use his mouth to sing,
But pulled the lady near,
And with his lips he placed a kiss
And sent her towards the lands of bliss,
Her heartstrings raised a cheer.
Bill didn't pause but pressed ahead,
His lips traced down her throat,
And quick arrived upon her chest,
He laid a kiss upon her breast,
Her pleasure to promote.
But Allison could not stand by
No idle lady, she,
She pulled him close and settled down
Amid the grass upon the ground,
Where prying eyes can't see.
Bill hooked a finger on her hem,
And pulled it to her thigh,
As one hand roamed within her shirt,
The other played about her skirt,
Her pleasure to supply.
Bill laid her down upon her back
As sighs escaped her lips,
The ring about her finger shone
With every hiss and every moan
And rocking of her hips.
And people from the market square,
They thought the sun had burst,
'Twas not the sun, but Bill's delight,
That caused the ring to shine so bright,
As pleasure it dispersed.
And that is how it came to pass,
And now I tell you true,
That even though Bill cannot sing,
He still has means to light the ring,
And pleasure to pursue.