This place spoke to her
and she said yes.
Her party would be waiting
her bridegroom, her love.
All standing patiently
in windswept open field.
Her dress of white ethereal silk
flowed as she walked alone
oh so slowly down the path.
She held a small bouquet,
delicate white freesia
hyacinth and sweet peas.
Birch trees lined the trail,
leaning in as sentinels would
protective and quietly calm
seeming to guide her steps.
Lush greenery everywhere
leading to her new life.
This stretch of spackled white bark
delicate in its strength.
This birch tree lane
seemed an extended bridal veil
approving her decision,
her love for him.
Their lush branches
whisper-rustled encouragement.
Trees on either side,
embracing her in calm serenity
as she took step after step forward,
until at last, they were all at her back.
She turned and looked once more
these birch trees, their beauty,
leaning in to line this walkway.
They seemed now to be
her wedding gown’s bridal train
bidding her adieu . . .
and she smiled . . .
turned . . .
and stepped into the open field
April 21: day 21 of National Poetry Writing Month. Today Kim at Toads asks us to write about trees. Photo taken some years ago when we visited our niece in Ohio.
lillian the home poet 
Your words and image capture this bride’s special moment so well🌹🙏
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This is gorgeously apt, Lillian! The Birch tree myth revolving around ceremonial occasions is captured so well here 💝👏
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What a heavenly bouquet that would be – scented like heaven! I love the idea of the birch tree lane as extended bridal path. It would be a fine one for sure. I love the smile and the turn, at poem’s end as she steps into her tomorrow.
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What a heavenly bouquet that would be – scented like heaven! I love the idea of the birch tree lane as extended bridal path. It would be a fine one for sure. I love the smile and the turn, at poem’s end as she steps into her tomorrow.
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This is so beautiful
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A very sacred tree, the Birch! What a beautiful pathway for this bride..
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Your birch tree lane reminded me of my daughter’s wedding in Tuscany almost four years ago. I had to walk down a lane to get to the open-air ceremony from where we were staying and where the festivities were to be held, to join everyone ‘All standing patiently / in windswept open field’. I was on my own, as David was in the bridal car, driven by his brother. And yes, ‘Birch trees lined the trail, / leaning in as sentinels would’. We have silver birches at the end of our garden, and you’ve described them so beautifully in ‘This stretch of spackled white bark / delicate in its strength […] seemed an extended bridal veil’ – and they do whisper-rustle!
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aaaaah. you took us there with her. with you. this is heart tickling.
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