White dove of peace
Wings outstretched in static pose
Inelastic as the royal icing
Unnatural, not real; unyielding,
To the knife that hovers
Held in our bonded hands
Above the colourless flowers
Starved of earth, in which to grow.
Fairytale wedding, too sugary sweet
A dream, a hope – for some maybe,
But it wasn’t what I had longed for.

I saw sunshine and beaches,
With wave washed sands of gold,
To match the bands freshly placed,
On our tanned fingered hands.

Instead, the shine is dulled,
By the sombre artificial light.
I join its plasticity in a smile,
Directed at the man who loves me
My mouth warms, flushing my cheeks
I love him too.
Just get through this sideshow
Then the white dove will soar
On symmetrical wings
Its warm breast beating,
Soft to the touch.
And the flowers will bloom
In a blazing colour
As the cake yields
Revealing its deep rich fruit
And the waves break,
On golden sand.