Til Death Do Us Part

In the murmur of a dim-lit church,

where incense clings to ancient prayers,

we stood, crowned in glory,

vowing in anxious whispers

that stirred the flames of our candles.

.

Our love, wrapped in the ivory lace of optimism,

promising forever in every beat of the heart,

sealed with the twist of our golden bands,

soft as that first marital kiss,

fragile as the rose petals carpeting the aisle.

.

The years rolled by like verdant hills

With its ups and downs —

bright days bathed in pure sunlight,

nights when tears poured like rain,

but rich and bountiful beneath it all.

.

We danced in kitchens, barefoot,

to the rhythm of our laughter,

and in twilight’s hush,

we spoke a silent language

learned through gentle brush of fingertips.

.

With each wrinkle and silver strand,

our bond deepened and grew,

etched like the well-worn palms,

of our clasped, but aging hands.

All reflected in our still twinkling eyes.

.

When that final dusk claimed you,

sorrow could not rob me of your beauty,

for in the stillness of your ending hours,

I heard the words echo, “til death do us part”

—a promise kept.